Catalyst
by TheOnlyWayIsLove
Summary: Foes old, new and unknown are out for the Virals' blood. Tory fights to protect them, but everyone seems to have an agenda, and the net is closing around her pack. [Post-"Exposure"]
1. prologue

**Prologue**

The hacker glanced over their shoulder – briefly, so briefly. It took years of navigating social circles to be able to maintain such stimulating yet easily severed conversation with bigwigs; even longer to practice keeping track of everyone in the room at the same time. Well, everyone important or dangerous.

They had always been a natural at this anyway. Easy lies, deceptive masks, anything requiring an engaging distraction while you simultaneously stole their life from right under their nose.

It would be too dangerous for such a flirtation tonight. The hacker was perfectly happy to keep away from Chance Claybourne's conversational circles. It made the job so much neater, slicker, if they could stick to observing for the right moments of engagement – and soon, in a minute or two, they were sure that skinny ginger girl would pull all his attention; he had been too intent on her all night – the hacker would be able to oh-so-smoothly slip by to replace what they had borrowed.

Chance wouldn't feel a thing. No drop in the pocket, no brush of fabric, no waft of scent.

He wouldn't have noticed his shiny new phone was missing, either. Too used to that old Nokia brick, the rebellion it represented, he wasn't in the habit of checking it. Certainly not at a social event like an art show, either. Chance Claybourne would see no difference in the makeup of his phone, and wouldn't know how to force the back of an iPhone 6 if he tried. He would never know he was tagged at all.

Every movement. That was what they would see. When the hacker opened a certain laptop tonight, they would have all screens – all activity – recorded and stored away for the near future.

All that paranoia… for all Chance's paranoia, twitching, constant checking over his shoulder, he would never check in the places that mattered. He never had.

The hacker smiled to themselves, though the old art collector across from them took it as encouragement to continue his monologue.

This was not an attack, a declaration of war. It was a pre-emptive measure that really Chance should have been expecting, but never would.

Silly little boy. The Claybournes always were stupid in the most crucial of ways.

The hacker excused themself from the art collector's monologue and began the trip to brushing past the Claybourne heir.

* * *

**A/N: welcome to my new fic! All planned out across four pages of Word, I'm trying to keep to the same structure as the Reichses do, including for subplots. If you want a more interesting pre-Prologue, see my oneshot "Night Obsessions". Also, this prologue's scene takes place halfway through "Exposure", when Tory is at the art show. The rest of "Catalyst" will be taking place straight after "Exposure" and therefore will have no spoilers barred – be warned if you haven't read it yet! Also, I've tried to incorporate all the info we currently have about "Terminal" (from Brendan's ask page) into "Catalyst".**

**I'm also trying to keep ANs short and sweet since I'm so bad for always doing massive ones. Whoops.**


	2. 1 - 1

**Part One: Arguments**

**1.**

I let go of Chance's arm. A momentary white imprint of my hand was left behind.

Five human Virals. My mind was whirring, trying to string together what this would mean for our pack, for our mental connection, for our flaring –

All I managed to blurt was, "It was you!"

Four confused sets of eyes settled on me. I narrowed mine at Chance. He was absent-mindedly rubbing his cheek, looking ready to collapse. Not exactly like someone who was trying to hide their presence at your almost-kidnapping from you.

But Chance had lied before. I didn't know how deep his defence mechanisms against us went. The boys clearly didn't trust him; why should I?

Better to test him.

"What was him?" Shelton was flicking his gaze between the two of us. "Tory?"

"The eyes at the beach." I steamrollered the questions from my pack. "Remember when Hawfield almost kidnapped me?"

There was a round of groans. Ben lifted his hands from the chair to the roots of his hair in frustration. I held up my arms in surrender.

"What else happened?" Hi flopped onto his chair. "Were you bequeathed the One Ring at the same time? Did the mice find the answer to life, the universe and everything and it was you?"

"After I… escaped," I said carefully, "I was walking back with Cooper. Just before the complex, we saw three sets of red eyes." I met Chance's gaze now. "Red canine eyes just like yours. With added growling. Then Coop barked, the lights came on and the eyes disappeared."

Chance didn't say anything, just shrugged. I wasn't sure if he was deliberately testing me back, trying the boys' patience or was too exhausted to notice our pack's tension.

"So do you know what that was about?" I tried.

"Nope. No."

"Well who's your Pack? As in, who else is infected like you?" Hi asked.

"Calm down, Hiram. There were two scientists working directly with the test subjects, Susan and Azad. Susan had Erythema Infectiosum – the human parvo – as a kid, so we think that's why she's not caught it. Azad is a Viral too."

There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone. _Six human Virals and counting._

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" Ben demanded. "You've seen us enough this week."

For a moment, it didn't look like Chance would answer. He rubbed his eyes once more, the flare all melted, before making eye contact at last. "I needed to know for sure. About me, and about you. After all, it was Tory who convinced me that this wasn't real the last few times."

Chance's words held only a hint of disdain, but my cheeks burned and I couldn't look up.

There were no excuses we could give that stood up for our pushing Chance into insanity – or rather, _my _pushing Chance into insanity.

The brief thought crossed my mind that he might not actually have come out the other side of that.

_Definitely don't mention the flare problems. _Clearly the boys were hyper-aware of Chance, distrusting him with everything, and might appreciate a pow-wow before I spilled the very last secret.

We already had enough on each other to take all the Virals down burning, though.

"You still haven't explained the creepy eyes," Hi pointed out. "Spill."

"I don't know what that was," Chance told him flatly. "As far as I know, all infected beings are in our separate lab on Candela's Cole campus. Which, by the way, you should come along to now. Or whenever suits," he added, nodding at our Bolton uniforms. "I probably can't write you a hall pass for 'genetic mutation testing' that Paugh wouldn't personally burn. I can't imagine he's taken an especial liking to the boat kids."

I ignored the old jibe. "That sounds - "

"No."

"What?"

"- like a really crap idea."

I glared at the boys. Ben raised his eyebrows, Hi made cut-throat gestures, and Shelton just shook his head.

"Alright Chance," I wheeled around to face him again. Civil smile pulled out. My own patience for going between everyone was beginning to wear thin. "We need to discuss this first. Can I get your number for when we've decided?"

"Or you could just look out of whatever building you're in. I'm sure he'll be parked below."

I shoved an elbow backwards into Ben's gut without looking. He didn't flinch.

"Here." Chance drew his phone from his pocket and tossed it carelessly in my direction.

I fumbled and caught it by the tips of my fingers, raising my eyebrows. _Quite the upgrade. _"I thought the new iPhone was released in a couple of months?"

"It is. This is just a little… experiment."

Shelton peered over my shoulder. "What, from Apple? Can I get your contacts? This is _nice._"

"Processing power like you wouldn't believe," Chance said with a weak attempt at his old smooth smile, "but what will I use it for if I can't get hold of you?" There was even a wink at the end.

"Hint taken." I punched in my digits and went ahead, adding myself on Chance's iFollow while I was at it. No point being taken down by the same mistake that almost cost us jail time the first time round. If I'd known Chance was arriving home so early, we might never have even had to face off Hannah.

Or, as some girls had started calling her, Jailbird Girl. Not the most inventive of nicknames a year on from her arrest, but suitably derogatory for the calibre of the witches tossing it round.

I handed Chance's phone back. My mobile buzzed in my blazer pocket as he sent me his number.

"Pleasure doing business, Chance."

"See you soon, Virals."

I didn't need to hustle the boys away. They were all too happy to bolt ahead of me, although Ben did pause to cast a last glance (glare, really) at Chance. I pushed him to go.

I tried to smile. Chance met my gaze for a second before turning away to look out at the city. The door closed between us with a barely audible swish, and I was free to hurry after the boys.

Even before Ben pulled away from our parking spot further down the block, we were talking all over each other. Arguing, naturally.

"This is our one chance to find out more about what's going wrong with us!" My case. Not popular with the team.

"There might not be anything wrong with us!"

"You don't actually _believe_ that, Shelton?"

"We can't trust that motherf- " Ben was cut off by Hi's wailing, jerking the wheel a little in surprise. I glared at Ben for another second, then twisted round to see Hi, hands clamped over ears and making noises that were probably supposed to resemble the notes of a tune.

Shelton reached over and grabbed Hi's arm away from his ear, smacking the side of his head with the free hand. "Oi! You totally butchered the _Thrones _theme song. An awesome tune, _ruined._"

"You're looking at the next American Idol and you know it," Hi warbled. "And no more shouting! Play nice. We can pass round a Speaking Stick and take turns – although it might have to be a Speaking Stick of Gum. My last Gandalf staff got gnawed to sawdust by the wolfdog."

Shelton took one look at my expression and told Hi, "Shut up now."

"Thanks Shelton. We clearly aren't going to agree on everything yet, but there are a couple of things I think we should definitely investigate. It doesn't have to be in an illegal way!" I added, as the boys in the back groaned at the mention of 'investigation'. "I just mean – we can't ignore the two new Virals running around. They're clearly not a part of our pack, and we have no idea what all this could mean for our powers. As for what already _is _going wrong with our powers…"

We processed this for a moment, jolting as Ben almost ran a stoplight. He spoke up first. "Chance isn't the answer to all that." I opened my mouth to argue but Ben sent me a 'come on' look. "He is clearly _not_ trustworthy. The past clearly shows some sort of revenge plan coming, and he's been following you around the past week. He was at your kidnapping, or some_things _with the same eyes as him were. And he's either not owning up to it or doesn't know what went on. We can't – trust – him."

"Seconded."

"Thirded."

"Not a thing, Hi."

I mulled Ben's speech over as Shelton and Hi bickered like five-year-olds. He had a point. A very good point. Even if it had made little sense, I probably would have been biased towards listening properly, because when Ben spoke that much, I knew I needed to listen.

I glanced over at Ben. Despite the tense situation and the many problems that had suddenly been thrown on top of the Virals' to-sort pile – not to mention the face-off with Chance back there – he still seemed pretty relaxed. Shoulders looser than I'd seen them in a long time, like he'd shrugged off some tension and this new "situation" was nothing compared. Gaze constantly drawing back to the view of the estuary on his side. He wasn't even absentmindedly chewing the inside of his lip, an old habit.

As my gaze hovered there, I was unintentionally washed in the memory of my kissing him yesterday. Clearly obsessing about it for half the night wasn't enough.

That hadn't prepared me for the intensity of feeling when I remembered it just a couple of feet away from Ben.

He must have felt my scrutiny because he flicked his eyes my way and raised a brow, his grin widening into a sort of smirk. His own gaze dropped to my lips almost inadvertently.

_Damn. _I jerked my head around, trying to focus on Drum Island and the Cooper River. What had I been working out before?

There were snickers from the backseat but I didn't know if the boys had been paying attention to us. Heat rose into my neck, ears, cheeks. _Awkward. _I needed to change the topic, but no ideas came to mind.

Hi cleared his throat. "So I take it we need to do a little recon on this Azad person. If he's a Viral, and all. Aaand there's another thing we need to check out. That disease that Chance mentioned, which Susan said she had as a kid?"

"Isn't that the slapped-cheek syndrome thing? The human version of parvo? Well, the human version of parvo that people actually know about." I wasn't quite sure what I was saying. My thoughts were still a bit muddled. "Can't hurt to do a bit more research, though. We could go to the library at lunch. Ella's not in anyway."

"And for no other reason than research? Nobody you're maybe trying to avoid?" Hi asked a little too innocently.

I glared at him in the rearview mirror. "I've got a few fences to mend but nobody to avoid."

"Then what are fences for?"

"The idiom was not intended as a literal metaphor."

"_Guys._" Shelton's exasperated voice was out. "Can we please focus on the more pressing matter of what we're going to tell Paugh?"

"Why do we need to tell him any- oh _shit._"

I leaned forward to see past Ben. Sure enough, the demon headmaster himself was patrolling Bolton's gates and peering towards the Ford Explorer. I immediately threw myself forwards, head on knees, and frantically tried to scoop my hair to the right so he'd not notice the dead giveaway. There probably wasn't another redhead in Bolton, let alone one he was keeping tabs on for skiving.

In the back, Hi and Shelton did the same as me. I hissed at Ben to circle the block and he chuckled while obliging.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Sorry so much was set in about a half-hour period, it will move faster in a while. Also I am British so any Americanisms I've messed up (that aren't spelling) please let me know :) I would really appreciate reviews so I know what the audience thinks! Thank you so, so much to the lovely reviewers who have left me my first ever ten reviews on – oceansoul85, the anon, stormyskies73, viralsisamazing, Wilfred the pickle, Heslen, and virls101 you have been so lovely and encouraging!**

**Next time: hiding Simba, favours, lying to Jason.**


	3. 1 - 2

**2.**

We were back treading the hallways by halfway through fourth period. I opted to hide out in the ladies' room for twenty minutes rather than try to explain to Mr Edde why I'd missed more than half of his lesson. It would be Mission Impossible without a hall pass to help.

I would have been useless even if granted entrance; there were too many questions and half-formed plans running through my head.

Hi and Shelton were going to blag it back into class. After all, cover stories were Hi's speciality, and they hadn't skipped as many of their lessons last week. I waved them goodbye before turning in.

Picking a cubicle at random in the pink-painted room, I locked myself in and sat down on the toilet seat. Ignored the irony that I had been driven to being one of 'those girls' hiding from a whole host of boys. I dropped my head into my hands and pushed my fingers into the edges of my hair instead, trying to still my whirling mind.

Dangerous things first.

The whole Chance package… nope, it could wait, would have to wait. School was not a place where I wanted to get caught working out how to resolve the Claybourne bombshell, or research these Candela researchers. I could plan my arguments for the boys on _Hugo _this afternoon.

Not that I was even fully registering everything Chance had said yet. I was in lockdown mode, and would ignore until I had to face up.

Then another dangerous development: what was I going to do about Ben? That moment in the car had been… intense.

_More like intensely excruciating. _Hi and Shelton had almost certainly picked up. I couldn't let this become awkward. But that action plan also definitely shouldn't be worked out at school. One for later, at home.

Then most immediate – if least dangerous – boy-related problem. He of the fences. Jason was quite possibly suffering severe whiplash from my bipolar behaviour towards him last week, but hopefully would put it down to stress over the Zodiac kidnappings. Based on past experience, it was likely he wouldn't even remember last week.

I might have to explain my absence from English, though. _Feeling ill? _That worked. Just another lame excuse in a long line of them.

The thing was, Jason would eat it up, no moodiness or demands for other excuses. Possibly almost too gullible, but I had missed – was missing – the complications-free friendship with Jason. And I would appreciate the buffer against the rest of Bolton's snob body with Ella off. I wasn't so weak that I needed protection, but it might be nice not to have to fight tooth and nail next to the other two for once.

I could catch Jason outside of English, make my apologies, grab the work. We has separate assigned seats in chem; ever since Hannah had been sent down and the police checked our involvement with the school, the science faculty had taken it upon themselves to separate Jason and I. Perhaps they were worried any students joining us in group work would also go psycho on us.

The bell rang. I stood, emerged, slung my bag over a shoulder. Hannah seemed to be popping up everywhere today.

I headed to the hall and met my class trooping out. The Tripod were a few people away, and, impossibly, they were splitting up, Courtney and Maddy blowing kisses to Ashley like they wouldn't meet til the other side of a life sentence. Ugh.

Jason emerged from behind Ashley, however, bumping her designer mini-bag that might've paid for another peasant's Bolton education. She turned; I anticipated a fight, or at least an ocular stabbing.

Instead, she smiled, grabbing Jason's arm and pouting as he made to move off. They talked for a moment before he could pull away – nicely, of course – and Ashley sent eyelash-fluttering looks behind her as she went. That whole group was ridiculous.

I aimed for Jason. He grinned upon spotting me, pushing through the crowd with more vigour than before. He caught my elbow and I smiled guiltily.

"Hey stranger," he said, loud over the surrounding racket. "You okay? You missed a great quiz. And the assigned end-of-year mini-projects. How will you possibly know what's going on in class now?"

"Sorry Jase. I felt really sick," I pulled a face. "Guess it's all leftovers from last week."

We fell into step, moving towards the labs as the crowds thinned. "You better now? Ella could benefit from your company if you're too ill to enjoy mine and I'm not allowed you."

I grinned properly this time. "Yeah, all good. And I'm sorry about my weird behaviour over the last week. You've been amazing to put up with me, seriously."

"Anytime, Brennan. Plus you're gonna have to repay the favours sometime, right?" I laughed, almost colliding with Shelton as he lunged forwards out of nowhere. Then it was sidestepping Hi as he barrelled forwards, apparently trying to collar Shelton. I didn't make it, and ended up almost knocking into Jason.

Fortunately Bolton's lacrosse captain was nippy enough to avoid our dopey dominoes and steadied me instead. I smiled in thanks before heading towards my assigned seat at the back, almost missing a step as I thought over Jason's last comment. Frickity frick. I really did owe him one, didn't I? If I wanted to stay friends, anyway – which I did, whatever insinuations of inverse snobbery the others (okay, Ben) might give. Plus I could probably guess what form my debt repayment would take.

I would probably enjoy hanging out with Jason for more than thirty seconds between classes if it weren't for the numerous problems facing us right now. And the passive aggression when I asked for a lift. If only there were another way to get to Jason that wouldn't involve weeks of glares if my usual chauffeur even agreed. Who did I know that even _liked _Jason and owned wheels?

Wait.

I sat up straighter, struck by an unexpected answer. A blonde, bimbo answer.

"Brennan!"

I jerked, caught sight of Ms. Smart pointing her dreaded ruler at me from the front of the class. "Since you've been pondering the Avogadro Constant so deeply, would you care to share your opinion on the answer?"

"Er…" I had nothing. "Would you mind repeating the question, Ma'am?"

If she wasn't giving me an A on every paper I handed her, the response would've been a detention slip. As it was, Ms. Smart merely gave me a flattened look and repeated the question. "What is the number of particles per mole of any given substance?"

"Six point oh two times ten to the twenty-three."

"Units?"

"Moles to the negative one." Answers I did know. Some of the very few.

Ms. Smart nodded, satisfied, continued teaching. I resolved to pay full attention. I couldn't afford to miss school when I was here on top of when I was chasing Chance.

* * *

After school, I caught up to Hi outside Bolton's stone Simba. He was pulling off his inside-out jacket as slow as humanly possible, failing to interrupt the lecture from Headmaster Paugh.

God. He really was stalking us today.

I spotted Shelton hiding out behind the King of the Pridelands, beckoning me over, and swerved to join him before Paugh caught me too. Hi caught sight of me and sent a stink eye my way while nodding along to Paugh, but _I _wasn't about to defend his odd blazer habits.

"Why does he even bother?" Shelton chortled. "Paugh looks so pissed."

I poked my head under the stone mane to check, quickly withdrawing. "All the drama must be going to his head. Soon every day will be a new instalment of _Keeping Up With Stolowitski._"

"Don't give him any ideas."

Hi finally slid his blazer on the right way and was released with a last warning and glare for added measure. He nodded contritely before bowing as Shelton had once instructed us, then hurried away as the headmaster swelled like a foot. One that had lost a battle with a scorpion.

Hi grabbed us by the elbows and hustled us towards the dock. Shelton and I could barely keep our snickers muffled.

"You two can laugh all you want," Hi said loftily, "but the oppressed always become the masters eventually. One day, Paugh!" He shook his fist at the lions as we crossed the road.

"You sure your jacket is definitely the reason he pulled you over?" Shelton asked. "Not that it wasn't funny as hell – and don't tell my mother you're using her cultural heritage behaviours to irritate the school – but Paugh's always just carried on walking before."

That hadn't occurred to me. "Stalker Paugh strikes again. He ask you about this morning?"

Hi shook his head. "Doesn't mean he wasn't trying intimidation tactics though. Not that he can win on that one. I won't be silenced!" There was a dramatic thump of the chest. I rolled my eyes.

"There's more pressing matters than Paugh."

"But what could be more important than Potentially Pervy Paugh's oppression of my right to wear – okay, fine." Hi had clearly seen the look on my face.

Shelton glanced about nervously as we paused at a crossing. "Now really a good time, Tory?"

"Doesn't have to be loud enough for the street to hear. Although if we do happen to get a random flare-seizure at any point along here, I'm sure we'll be drawing a lot more attention to ourselves."

"Alright, alright. Do we have to do this without Ben?"

"I just want to work out all the things going wrong with us."

"Feels like a trip to the doctor's." Hi managed to duck the stinger I sent his way. "Huh. I'm getting better at that."

"Practice makes perfect," Shelton told him.

"Nearly all my flares in the last week have knocked me flat. I'm getting weird mental connections from Chance. There's some other weird mental connection stuff going on without a proper pattern yet. At least we're able to join minds again, and know why it went wrong last time."

"Wait, how?" I looked up from the pavement to Hi. He wasn't joking.

"Didn't Ben tell you?" I hadn't thought he'd keep things from the pack. We didn't do that.

Okay, we _tried_ not to do that. I mostly failed.

The other two shook their heads. "Oh – he said he though he'd been blocking us out on some level. Blocking me out. So we couldn't join minds again until he let the unity happen."

"So you don't automatically have access to our heads anymore?"

"I never did," I reminded Shelton.

"Felt like it," Hi muttered. "Teenage psychics. Not so cool when you're the one who's being invaded."

"Other problems include trusting Chance, the strange eyes at my almost-kidnapping, Chance's scientists, and why this Susan person managed to escape the disease."

"We can't find out about the scientists with only first names to go on." Shelton had a point. "And we already covered that last one. Lunch. That time we found nada useful information."

True. There were mostly just lists of symptoms. Even if we had found some incredible nugget of research on how to cure the virus, we wouldn't have been able to put theory into practice. Not unless we had a pharmaceutical company on our side. Like, for example, the drug giant Candela.

_Everything leads back to Chance. _So how could I convince them to trust him?

"Fine." I dismissed the topic for now. "We can talk with Ben on iFollow."

The boys looked relieved. Moved on to talking about Mystique from X-men.

I didn't listen. There was enough going on in my head to sort out as it was.

* * *

**A/N: sorry it's a little filler-y, I accidentally made the first draft rather long and when rewriting made it even longer, so the events have been split into two chapters. Sorry! But I do have quite a few prewrittens at the moment, so in this oasis of post-exam pre-school return on Monday, I am writing as much as possible, and updates will be good! Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews you guys, it makes me so happy to read them all. (Viralsisamazing – "Simba" as in, the stone lion they were hiding behind ;) )**

**Next chapter will be good, though: jealousy, crust competitions, and Hi's guilt crisps.**


	4. 1 - 3

**3.**

Tuesday night. I checked my watch and shovelled a last mouthful of venison sausage casserole before jumping up. From beneath the table, Cooper did too. Whitney's delicious main was completed with broccoli, asparagus and juniper flavouring but had taken longer than I'd anticipated; the planned Virals conference would start without me if I wasn't careful.

"Do you mind if I go talk to Ella?" I interrupted. "We've scheduled."

Kit sent me a warning frown as Whitney broke off in the middle of her continuous prattle about the opponents for her Pride of Charleston pie competition this year. She closed her pinked-up mouth and dabbed with a napkin. I paused for the verdict. Probably should have been more tactful. They didn't know how important this meeting was.

Before the tension could break, Kit intervened. "Hey cub. Could you not text her to explain we're in the middle of our family meal? Whitney's been practicing her pear and pecan pie so there's a good pudding we need to taste-test for her."

Said pie-baker smiled at my dad and laid her hand on his. He smiled back, then fixed me with a stare that left no room for excuses.

I needed him in a good mood if I wanted to start creeping out to Cole anytime soon. And I needed him to not worry about me and try to talk to Whitney about it, lest she bring up the incident last week of my 'meeting Jason' late at night. Combined with our LIRI break-in last week, they would surely dust off the parental punishments.

I didn't have a choice.

I swallowed my screams, nodded a fake smile to Whitney, and sat down again. Fired a super-fast text to the other three before pushing my phone back into my pocket.

The bimbo resumed the one-sided conversation, but not about crust this time. Unfortunately. "I am so excited about your first event this Saturday, Victoria. Have you and your friend discussed what you'll be wearing yet? Or was that what you were going to talk about? Because really," she sipped at the Cava, "Augusta Francis has the most delicious sense of conservative style, but you might not want to go for that angle for your first outfits this weekend. Are you lookin' forward to Saturday?"

"Um." My brain was straining to play catch-up. "My first event for the Mag League is this weekend?"

"Why, of course! Don't tell me you forgot?"

"No, I just… thought it was the Saturday after. Because I'm really looking forward to the…"

"Yes, of course." Whitney was all beams again. "The Finishing events at your chapter meetings are such fun. But you can't go forgettin' these charity days either. The Mount Pleasant food bank would be positively _sunk _without the help of the lovely Mag League ladies."

"A worthy cause," I managed, scooping up the last of my gravy and picking out the juniper berries.

"_Exactly,_ and you simply _must _co-ordinate outfits with Ella if she's to enter society again at the weekend."

Kit saw me stiffen. Quickly tried to smooth it over. "That'd be great, wouldn't it Tory? You could have her over on Friday night, for whatever you girls get up to, if you want?" He scratched behind his ear, looking uncomfortable as hell.

I took the olive branch and a deep breath. "Thanks, Kit. Sounds great. I'll ask her."

"I'll bring home a selection of dresses for you both to try on," Whitney promised. "It sounds like such fun!"

The mention of 'home' did not escape me. Coop growled, pressing himself up against my legs.

I concentrated on the blackmail material Whitney was holding over me.

"Who's for pudding?"

Twenty minutes of teeth-gritting later and I leapt into my desk chair, spinning around as Cooper threw himself up at me too. His slobbery tongue licked my face enthusiastically, causing me to laugh while blindly waking up my mac. It was already on iFollow, so I clicked onto the live video with the boys between doggie kisses.

As various snarky greetings filled my ears, I pushed the wolfdog off me and turned to the other three properly. "Hey, sorry I'm late. Whitney's casserole overran and she kept wittering on about the Mag League." My Cooper-generated smile faded at the serious expressions of the boys, but I tried for a playful tone anyway. "Nice of you to show, Ben. What was with the disconnection yesterday?"

He didn't smile back. "My mom needed some help up at the hospital."

"But – "

"They cut your wages if you're seen on your phone."

I nodded, wary now. The sudden moodiness in itself had me on edge, but money was also a tricky topic. It operated on the same policy as the senior Blues' family status: don't ask, don't tell.

We hadn't been able to get hold of Ben yesterday except for a single text saying today was good, Monday not so. The cut-off had sent me doolally, frustrated at our dead-end for Candela. But Ben must've been up at the hospital for hours and hours.

"Alright," I tried cautiously, "well we're all here now. So. Why don't you want to accept the help from Chance when we clearly need it?" The gauntlet was thrown down. _Yeah, don't beat about the bush, Tory. _"How else can we learn why we're passing out nearly every time we flare? Why I keep getting this _stupid _mental connection to Chance? And… my other mind-touching stuff."

Granted, that was – as far as I could see – only once. But it didn't mean that we weren't all scared as hell about it.

I massaged my forehead. Another of the strange Chance-related feelings had returned over lunch today, too. Knowing why they were happening wasn't stopping them driving me nuts.

"He's a liar. A near-murderer many times over." Ben leaned forward to cut off my protests. "He's shot at us. His company created the disease that you're now trying to figure out."

"All the more reason to go to them. They have more knowledge than we do. And Chance has saved our lives before, we've saved his. We _owe _him."

"What, we owe _him_ the ability to research _us? _He's clearly been insane if he isn't still now. Not to bring family issues into Chance's messed up criminal CV, but his father and girlfriend are both in jail for murder. We have no reason to trust him."

"We don't have to trust him," I exclaimed, "we just have to have enough on each other for a mutual non-betrayal. And we have more than enough to bring Chance down with Candela. Plus, he needs our help. An exchange of services."

"Why bother? He could easily sell us out without bringing the company into it, and we managed our powers just fine without anyone to hold _our _hands. He doesn't really need us. He is an unstable liar," Ben spoke louder over the top of me, "who is not above manipulating each of us to get what he wants."

I glowered, gathering my argument. Shelton and Hi remained silent, uneasily watching the battle.

"Can we please not focus on what Chance did in the past but on who he is now," I fired. "The courts have said he's clean. I trust that."

Ben shook his head. It stung not having him on my side. Probably a taste of my own medicine, but I didn't get why he was so angry. The last time we'd argued so badly was when we were still mad at each other for betrayals/non-forgiveness last week. That wasn't a problem now – or at least, shouldn't have been.

"He hasn't done anything to earn that trust," Ben pointed out, surly and verging on heated. _Jealous? If he is, why? _"And he still hasn't produced any evidence for those eyes at your kidnapping."

That was a solid enough piece of evidence, the strongest part of Ben's argument so far. Why had he focused on the past for so long, then?

I frowned at the screen, watching him sit back, arms crossed, jaw set. Diagonally across the screen from Ben's segment, Hi kept concentrating on his keyboard. Then flicking his eyes quickly up at the screen, then back down. What was that about?

He flicked his eyes again. They kept moving top-right, then away into his room, then down to the keyboard. Top-right was my segment, if he was looking at the screen and flipped in the camera.

Data bytes in my brain connected. Hi seemed guilty, what with all that nervousness. It wasn't just anxiety over the situation, because Shelton wasn't doing the same, although he seemed plenty nervous about the tightrope we were walking already. Then Ben seemed especially mad. And why was he bringing up all Chance's past crimes against us from the Katherine Heaton period?

Ben angry, Hi guilty, Chance manipulating…

_Double damn._

I shot to my feet. "Hiram Stolowitski!"

He hit the deck, disappearing off-screen with a thud and a whimper. I planted my hands on the desk.

"Come out, Stolowitski, or so help me I will come over and drag you out myself!"

Hi whimpered and poked the top of his head above the desk so his forehead was visible. I heard the plastic crackle of his guilt crisps. Probably BBQ Doritoes.

"He's not making it up, then?" Shelton looked disgusted and uneasy. A single glance at Ben's expression showed him murderous.

"Not if he spilt what I think he did."

"You kissed Claybourne last year." Ben sounded emotionless, flat, but he looked far from it. I frowned at his quarter on the screen.

"If you want specifics, then no, _he_ basically buzzed _my…_ cheek." I had basically forgotten that until now. But I was blushing from having to explain this. Anything to stop Ben cutting me out. "And it was all manipulation as I tried to work out why we were being shot."

He snorted. "Trying really hard."

"We didn't die, I worked it out in time! And do I still look naïve and stupid and able to be _manipulated _to you?" I may have been bright red, but I was now seething too.

"That depends. Are you still fighting for us to trust Chance or not?"

_Damn it, Ben. _I sat back and blew out a breath, trying to calm. I needed to consider carefully. Not scream at the boys.

Really, I no longer had a choice. I couldn't talk them around tonight. And maybe I should have remembered Hi's existing blackmail on me.

Too many people had stuff on me. I was going to have to be more careful.

"Fine. We don't trust Chance until he produces evidence about the eyes at the beach, his maybe-pack. Deal?"

I checked each of the boys. What I could see of Hi, then Shelton, and finally Ben nodded at me slowly, if curtly in Ben's case.

Enough drama for one evening. I shut off iFollow and flopped onto the bed, defeated.

The past was really catching up to me today.

* * *

**A/N: ahhh! Hope you guys liked. Or disliked. Had some sort of reaction. That's all I'm aiming for :P Tell me in a review?**

**Y'know I wrote the first seven chapters or so in a notebook on holiday, and this is part of me typing them up/editing in time for JulNoWriMo (where this will probably be my main focus whee), but before I started the editing process I made about twenty chapter images. Not particularly good art, but I did spend time choosing the characters and whatnot. I didn't realise the this website actually blocks them! So I'm working on hosting them somewhere and putting the link up in my bio for anyone interested. No go so far.**

**Also, I've very nearly finished the notebook draft of the first part of the story! Next time: Candela contacting, forced fainting, telepathic memories.**


	5. 1 - 4

**4.**

Thursday morning. Skimming across Charleston Bay towards the harbour. The day was cooking up an April storm, something I was grateful for after the extra-hot dryness of the past week. Our boat trips yesterday had consisted of Hi googling incidences of human testing gone wrong to scare the shit out of Shelton and prove a point to me.

They had taken Ben's side. Unquestioningly.

This was one time I was unable to force the boys to follow me. To give ourselves up for lab testing was the ultimate fear.

It didn't help that Ben was now hardly talking to me. The irony of our reversed positions from this time last week was not escaping me. We had been getting along so well again – almost too well – and it was now thrown back in my face. Because of one past omission. The déjà vu of that situation was also haunting me.

Ella was still home but had sent the soccer training schedule to us all over iFollow. That app was a life-saver; organisation was not, as such, a Lady Griffins' Soccer Team speciality. However, she had been enthusiastic about Kit's idea (I sold it as mine) to come over on Friday, although probably not to discuss what Whitney wanted us to. She was burning through Netflix series like fire in dry scrub.

Meanwhile, I could feel a stinking headache coming on. There was no question of using a flare to help. They were dangerous enough in public, and with the recent zonkouts? No thanks.

Definitely better to stick to Paracetamol. I popped a couple as we stood to disembark _Hugo. _Hi and Shelton were right ahead, discussing the latest _Game of Thrones _ep all along the marina. Only a trace of unease was in their behaviour toward me since Tuesday night.

The only two kisses of my life and Hi had seen them both. I wouldn't have put it past him to be vlogging about the sudden teenage drama each evening.

We were finally turning off he harbour when my vision cut out for a second.

I stumbled, continued walking. _Whoops. _

Then my body seized up.

I hit the pavement, schoolbag taking down a café chair. My nerves were screaming, pain shooting through me, all muscles clenched and refusing to let go.

Some switch flicked off completely in my brain and all sensory input was replaced with pain. Deep, thrumming, winding my insides into a coil of white-hot madness. Hands were laid on me but they simply drove the blinding, blanketing pain in further –

Somewhere deep in my unconsciousness, beneath all the layers of pain, I somehow sensed a presence. Someone was in my head, taking control of my body and burning it. They now tried to force into the flaming cords, which connected my whole body to the other minds now.

I tried to regain willpower, pin down the presence, but the pain masked them brutally. I had only one weapon left as the pressure increased.

_**GET OUT OF ME!**_

For a moment, there was a great clamp over my body and mind: the final display of fireworks, the last supernova in a line of collapsing stars.

Then a small _snup, _and it all cut out.

My body flopped back, all muscles sighing in relief as I gasped and panted. I felt physically in shock. Then the sensory deprivation slowly faded; a babble of voices encircled me, the smell of baked paving stone wafted up, and my scraped elbows began formally protesting against my now-sticky shirt sleeves.

_Oh no._

I needed to get rid of people ASAP.

So I forced my eyes open and carefully propped myself up. Hi and Shelton were kneeling either side of me, looking mighty relieved I wasn't dead. Shelton was still rubbing his forehead. Clearly my message had gotten through.

"You okay?" I nodded painfully at Hi. He poofed out air. "Way to scare us, TB."

I couldn't respond properly in front of the gaggle of locals, and tried to nod and smile in thanks for their concern as they dispersed, leaving me to heave myself into a sitting position.

"What the hell was that?" I croaked. Like the boys had an answer.

"Let's just get to school." Shelton's eyes were darting, checking for ninja warriors about to leap out and pop us with a crowbar. "It's not Chance, right? He's the one making your… psychic stuff mess up."

"It didn't feel like our playboy," I said as Hi hauled me up. I brushed off my skirt, noting a couple of girls in the year above sniggering from across the street. I gave a sarcastically friendly wave and leant on a shoulder from each boy as the ground tipped sickeningly. My stomach felt like it would empty any second. There had definitely been a herd of elephants flash-mobbing salsa dances in my brain.

Ugh. The last time I had felt this bad?

I searched for the answer and the mud of my thoughts eventually thinned to let me focus. It was… when… when I'd accidentally poked about in Madison's brain.

Something to file for later.

Shelton tugged my left arm more firmly around his shoulders and motioned for Hi to do so with my right. He checked my face and obeyed, snagging my bag as we moved off.

"If it wasn't Chance, then who was it?" Shelton continued.

"What other enemies do we have?" Hi muttered.

"They hid themselves – pretty well," I grunted. My body was still jellified. "Feels crap though. Like when I, um, invaded Madison's mental space."

"With any luck, the perp felt your mental sledgehammer too and scrammed," Hi suggested, looking cheered at the prospect.

Shelton and I both snorted. "Yeah right."

"Unlikely!"

"Hey, we might have got a non-psycho after us this time. Don't mess my chi with your negative vibes."

I just shook my head and concentrated on bringing strength and sensation back to my legs.

I managed to approach Bolton and get up the main steps okay. After that, I had to use Hi and Shelton as my human crutches to reach my locker. At least when there I could casually lean an elbow in and take thirty. Terenzoni wouldn't be pleased if I missed calc because of something as trivial as losing consciousness.

It transpired that I had unexpected help: when I turned into my locker hall, we found Jason casually lingering. Again. He grinned when he saw me, quickly switched to over-concerned.

"Gosh Tory, you okay? What happened?"

"Fainting attack. Down by the marina." I grimaced. "My two knights in shining armour were around to carry me here, though."

"At your service, my lady." Hi bowed with an over-the-top flourish.

"We could hire you a motorised scooter next time," Shelton suggested. "Although you've possible been Hiram's workout for the week."

"Too right, brah." Hi flexed his biceps pathetically. "Ladies love guns like these."

"Send some of your adoring fans my way sometime, eh?" Jason laughed. "Let me give you a rest from carrying the damsel in distress. Tory?"

I waved him off, trying to subtly rest more weight in my open locker. "Don't worry about me. You need to get to US History."

"I can't leave you like this. Would you prefer to go bridal or debutante style?"

I managed to avoid pulling a face and swallowed my pride. "Deb style, thanks." I took his proffered arm, Jason tactfully walking as though I wasn't putting almost my entire body weight onto him.

The Tripod passed us, slotting away their metallic make-up bags from a first-thing powder session. Courtney noticed us, elbowing the other two, who promptly stared at our strange formation. I ignored them as best I could.

_Remember what Ella said. Head held high._

Jason had obviously seen their stares. "Are Maddy's lot leaving you alone now? I mean, I know your new reputation has had a bit of an impact on them, just like the rest of us around here." He smiled to show it wasn't meant badly.

I felt uneasy. Tried to brush it off. "Not much stranger than usual. Ashley tried to start a conversation about the Mag League with me yesterday. I think I nearly fell over in shock."

"You've joined too? Or rather," he added playfully from my disgusted expression, "forced into it, then?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Madison told me about it during English on Monday. Not that you'd know, you big skiver." He nudged my shoulder. "Although she did ask me about you too. Weird stuff. I didn't realise your standing up to her last July would make her stalk you."

_Me neither, Jase. _"She was asking about me?" I said it too loudly; Hi and Shelton sent me weird looks from a few paces behind. "What did she say?"

"Just like, did you ever act really weirdly or wear sunglasses when it wasn't sunny. Or use curse words then know what I was thinking. I don't know, they were pretty creepy questions, but we _were _doing the last section of our _Paradise Lost _passage. Milton turns us all loopy, right?"

I tried to laugh it off as my brain tried to process this worrying new info. "I guess. But why would she ask you about me?"

"Jealousy?"

I avoided looking at Jason, just nodding. I was suddenly very aware of how I was hanging off his arm in a couple-y way. Fortunately we were almost at Calc; I unlatched and waved, disappearing inside as second bell rang, the conversation left hanging. Dumped my bag on Ella's empty chair and collapsed into mine.

Why wouldn't Maddy just leave it alone?

Ten minutes towards the end of Spanish – which I was spectacularly behind in, following my many absences last week and my failure to catch up over the weekend – my phone buzzed twice in my jacket pocket.

I stiffened. Texting wasn't looked on kindly by Señor Messi. Good thing he was halfway through a long-winded explanation about speech fillers.

The temptation to slip my phone out and check was overwhelming. I resisted. Messi was known and hated for handing out detentions. Doing time wouldn't help my plan of snoozing all the way home achieve fruition.

Freed for AP Bio, I could check. Not Ben, as I'd expected. Clearly the anger overrode his desire to know what the hell had happened this morning. _Not _a favourable portent.

IMESSAGE: CHANCE CLAYBOURNE

My eyebrows rose. I unlocked.

**I've made several discoveries of interest. Meet me later. 4pm, Candela's back gate. Feel free to bring the boys and the boat. Xxx**

What discoveries? Chance had my curiosity snared immediately. I would go if I had to steal _Sewee _and drive her myself. What on earth couldn't be told over text?

**I'll gather the pack **– wait, no. I backspaced.

**I'll gather the boys if possible. Don't hold your breath. Or do. **There had been enough bouncing around of kisses for Chance Claybourne.

I fired a text to the Virals. Shelton and Hi replied immediately. I reckoned they had some input in Ben's curt but affirmative response just before the lesson began. Whatever it took to get us in the discussion stages about our powers again. I was still weak and shaky from this morning's knockout and not keen for a repetition. The only way I could help us now was through science – pharmaceutical testing and conclusion.

* * *

Ben idled outside Bolton as we headed for the Ford Explorer. 3pm sharp. It would take a good forty minutes to get from downtown to Morris, where _Sewee _was tied up. Then hopefully only twenty minutes to Cole. Chance probably wouldn't be particularly happy or forgiving if we turned up at the back door of his secure drug-testing facility late. But I knew better than to say anything to Ben, sliding into the back after Hi.

We'd already told Tom we weren't ferrying home but Ben still pretended to text for a moment as a couple of prejudiced nitwits went by pointing out 'That Gamemaster Psycho's Accomplice'. Relations didn't become any less tense on the drive, or the boat trip. I was coiled tighter than a spring by the time Cole faded into view.

The bobbing motion of the waves calmed my blood a little, but did nothing to ease the general drowsiness since this morning. The sea had always been able to cure my fevered mind, a catalyst for breaking up the big substrate of tangled problems into manageable packages. It was a relief too to be back in _Sewee, _which had been avoided so well in the last months. And which I was now so eager to leave behind for our easy routine again.

Hi and Shelton did their best to bridge the gap. God knew they'd had a lot of practice by now. I wasn't going to apologise to Ben for something I had no active part in, though. It was a year ago – a result of Chance's manipulation. I could compare myself now to Ben, in being an instrument of an evil thing I'd thought was working for good. I was also aware of how my consistent blame of Chance only kept him as untrustworthy in the others' books.

I did, however, apologise for the morning's mental screaming, as we moored up in Cole Creek. Hi brought the topic up as we jumped into the surf to push _Sewee _in. I didn't add much.

Yes, Ben had felt it. He'd almost crashed his car. And no, he hadn't freaked out. He'd just assumed it was another of my 'mind issues'.

That, at least, pushed me into confrontation.

"Since when were you so heartless about our _sensitive _condition, Benjamin? My – " air-quote " 'psychic abilities'? This is _dangerous._"

I beat Hi to helping pull _Sewee_'s nose. Call it the stupid instinct to get in anyone's face I was irritated and angry with. This tactic clearly worked on Ben, who turned to lock narrowed eyes with me.

"You've always done stupid things. Liked dangerous things. Maybe this was just another incident of you letting someone take advantage of a mental weakness of yours."

I almost socked him in the face. The only reason I didn't was that I knew I'd be proving Ben's point right.

He could read my fury and smirked. _Smirked._

My eye twitched. I unfocused for a minute, refusing the temptation to close my eyes while I fought the flare snapping to burst free. It would only knock me out again if this morning was any indication, and two KOs in one day might scupper this discussion with Chance. _Breathe._

I dropped my half of _Sewee _and marched up the tiny beach towards the marsh path. Ben shouted, "that's it, Victoria, just run away from your problems, just like always."

That was it. The moment my flare smashed free, chains broken with a **SNAP**, the wolf snarling and claiming control of me. Powerful, painful shudders fled through my body as I wheeled to face Ben, so strong and wild I almost bit dirt again. Senses were pulling me in a thousand different directions, my mind skittering everywhere and refusing to gain focus anywhere. It felt like a time when I was small, and the realisation brought me up short, still burning.

Mom had been trying to get me to go to kindergarten the day after I'd accidentally spilled paint on Marcie Davis' beautiful dress. I had hung on the door, desperately hooking my hands and feet around the frame. For a moment, it was a struggle between me and her, the door and Mom, before she tugged me away. Of course, she had won.

As the memory washed over me – more physically than memories without a flare – I could have sworn I saw her for a moment. Auburn hair tangling, holding out her other hand for me to take. I stumbled forward a step.

Except there wasn't anybody there. I was seeing untrue things, mere visualisations from my mind, 'wishful thinking'. Just like when I first came to Charleston, and Mom was around every corner, in every crowd.

"Tory?" I jerked my head to the boys. Everyone looked a little freaked, but it was Hi who asked.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt the switch of awareness that told me I had connected to my Pack even in their non-flare. I didn't know if they had seen her too as a message sent by me.

I didn't want to know.

But as I tried to recoil inwards – pull my mind back to me – it snapped too fast. My psyche was untethered, terrifyingly floating above all four of us. Close at first, then dragging free – a balloon only loosely tethered. Somewhere, a part of me remembered Coop biting me last time. He was howling somewhere now, but that sound was dissolving with the wind.

The group of people on the ground were getting smaller and smaller, like an opposite of when I'd first worked out there was a body on Loggerhead. A year ago, a lifetime ago, a species ago.

The cord tethering me to the body down there began to shudder and shake, straining for eternal untethering.

For one dreamy second, I wanted it to snap.

_WHACK!_

The slap's force catapulted me forwards, back to my body with a bang. I gasped wildly, a shuddering breath with all of my body as I brought myself back together, all that flare strength either expelling around me or turning inwards. Sounds and sights filled my ears and eyes in a dizzy whirl. My body tensed then relaxed as my awareness settled back in.

Slowly, I moved from my bent-over position to standing upright again. Focused on the person in front of me. Ben. Right.

Nope.

I turned and vomited onto the sand, almost falling over but for Ben grabbing my shoulder. Then I turned away again, shivering. Shelton passed me a water bottle from the boat. I shifted slightly, trying to feel at one again. It didn't particularly work.

"That was scary shit, Tor," Hi said at last. "What happened?"

I shook my head. Couldn't deal now. "Ben got me just in time. Just like that time last week, except Coop wasn't here this time, and I could see a lot more. Thanks, by the way."

"No problemo." Ben, along with the other two, was eying me strangely. I didn't blame them.

Didn't mean I wanted to talk about it, either. I pulled myself up straighter. "We're going to be late. Let's go."

I didn't give the chance for a reply but pushed on towards the main road at the end of the path.

* * *

**A/N: ahhh creepy stuff! I love it. So scary. Although I hope it wasn't too over-the-top. Let me know in a review? Plus this was quite a long chapter. You're welcome ;)**

**If you're interested, I've made a playlist for this whole story on 8tracks, "feeding on fever", by markofathena. It's immensely awesome for writing to, and while some songs might seem a little pointless or not obvious now, I promise they fit into the plot as a whole. Also every song on there has more than one meaning, because I like my playlists to be adaptable ;) And I'm still tweaking and fine-tuning.**

**Next time: threatening Chance, criminal plans, and K Gruber.**


	6. 1 - 5

**5.**

We marched along Cole Island's single road for ten minutes before turning off at the rock formation Chance had instructed. The dirt track was wide enough for a single vehicle at a time, surprisingly overtaken by clumps of salt marsh cord grass at the fringes. Somewhere at our backs, the Atlantic glittered under the ruthless sun. Our thick woollen blazers would not have been Bear Grylls-approved; my sweat glands were straining, my already-weak state only exacerbated by what was rapidly becoming an endurance test.

Candela's great white structures jutted out against the river beyond. I wasn't quite sure which river, and didn't particularly want to ask Ben. The buildings stuck out enough, like the giant fist of Hollis Claybourne stamping down on nature. And as Ben had so nicely reminded me two days ago, this was now the property of the heir of the man who had caused our condition.

Thus, it probably held answers.

But as I swallowed, looking up at the great box structure surrounded by smaller buildings – of only two or three stories to the flagship's six – that fact did not inspire trust in me. Maybe Ben was right after all. Why should Candela treat as anything else but another aspect of nature to crush?

We continued along the track until it ended by the chain-link fence. It was at least eight foot, if not ten. I tried to concentrate on the figure beneath instead. Chance was waiting here, as promised. And swanky as ever. The illusion of control was difficult to see through.

"Good afternoon, Victoria." Chance nodded at the boys. "And pack. If you want to come inside, the charming structure to your left is the current house of Project Brimstone."

We all looked to where he gestured. A squat box just like the rest of them. Only a couple of small windows, tinted glass. It looked like a prison or a horror psychiatric facility.

_We're just going to his office. No reason to freak._

I was saved from forcing a 'yes' by Ben. "If it's all the same to you, Claybourne, we'll stay out here to discuss."

Chance's left eye twitched, not controlled in time. He carefully rolled up each sleeve of his sleek Italian shirt – which was clean, if the rest of his attire looked just as through-the-mill before. In a measuredly careless way: "if you'd prefer, Benjamin."

That was the second person calling Ben his full name in twenty minutes. I didn't imagine it would go down well.

But Ben didn't react beyond tensed shoulders and a nod.

Cue Tory. "Let's cut to the chase, Chance. What have you discovered?"

He sent me a strange look. "Do you smell of _sick, _Tory? What – "

"Nothing important." I bared my teeth in a humourless smile. Chance raised an elegant brow and dropped it again with a shrug.

"Alright. I've solved the mystery."

"If you're here to play mind games, don't bother," Shelton snapped. I was surprised he was so vocal, but maybe the tension from Ben and I was getting to him. Or maybe he was just fed up of the stupid games Chance liked to play.

I damn sure was.

"The mystery of Tory's kidnapping eyes," Chance clarified, unruffled. "It turns out that two and a half weeks ago, there was an intrusion at Candela. Somehow, they cut our security tapes for exactly an hour so there were no obvious number jumps. They broke in and our test subjects for Brimstone was released.

"Test subjects?" I inquired mildly. Behind me, Hi whistled.

"Two Alsations and a Collie." Chance hadn't picked up on my feelings the way my pack had. "We tried a different form of parvovirus B-19 structure on each."

"So there might be an animal-rights criminal running around with your version of Parvo? Another Viral, except a criminal mastermind?" Hi snorted. "Nice going. Maybe you should take over from Hudson as Security Chief at LIRI?"

Hi actually had a good point. What if this criminal was the creepy puppetmaster of this morning? I dreaded being under another Gamemaster-like psycho's orders.

Yet again another mystery we couldn't answer now.

"You were experimenting on dogs." I folded my arms. "Where from?"

"The pound. Last day before the chop. Surely you'd prefer that the poor beasts could live happy and pampered and injected occasionally by their human playmates than be mercilessly killed?"

"Cruelty does not excuse cruelty." I wasn't sure I believed him.

"Well they're liberated now." Chance spread his hands. "No more of your so-called cruelty. And lucky for you and me, they were well past the infectious stage. Although they are part of my pack, I – I think."

I tilted my chin up, deciding. "Can you feel them in my mind?"

"Can I what?" Chance sent me a strange look, almost amused. I tried not to get irritated at his stupid façade even now.

"One of you in the pack will be able to sense the presence of others and bring them together. Maybe meld vision and senses when flaring." There was no question of who in _my _pack that was.

Chance nodded and rubbed his chin. "How do you do it, then? Any quick tests to determine who it is – an IQ test, or just whoever has the most pushiness?"

"I don't know." There were a lot of things that could set me apart from the boys if we wanted to dwell on it, but I didn't. "It won't work properly when you're separated anyway."

Behind me, Hi snorted. He seemed to realise what he'd done a moment too late, possibly the second that Ben's hand shot out to whack his dome. Chance's Classic brow rose.

"Really, Victoria? Or are we back to lying to each other?"

I sighed. "This morning, somebody crash-landed into my mind and I ended screaming at them to get them out, but everyone else heard too. Just that once, though. I need to do some experimenting." Shelton, Ben and Hi all groaned from behind me.

"Screaming?" Chance asked, fixing me with a stare.

"Mentally."

"Ah. If it had been out loud, it might have been a full repeat of that time Madison thought you'd possessed her. What a strange lunch _that _was."

"Hey, you don't laying into Tory? 'Cause I thought you had some test subjects to find," Ben positively growled, stepping forward. I put my hand on his arm.

Chance switched the hard stare to Ben, his expression contorting. "Why so protective? Going to start threatening me next?"

"I think Tory has that covered. I don't warn – "

"Just remember," Chance bit out, shoving his nose close to Ben's, "whose private land you're standing on."

Ben would probably have socked Chance if I hadn't moved between them, trying to push them apart. "Hey, let's not do this now. Chance, find those dogs using your flare. You'll be able to sniff them out. Ben, quit being a meathead."

Chance nodded. Ben glowered. "We're staying away til you fund the mutts, Claybourne."

"All of you?"

I wasn't sure if that was a veiled plea to me, but I had to take Ben's side or we'd never enter that squat Brimstone building. "Yes Chance."

I moved closer, placing a hand on his arm hesitantly. "It's dangerous just being a Viral in our pac, let alone with some more Viral dogs running around. Find them. _Please._"

"No dogs, no deal. Or if you prefer, no bow-wow, no business." Hi rolled his shoulders. "Y'know, it's awful hot out here. No shade. You got any secret ice-cream stashes up there in all them tub-shaped houses?"

"I've got a new form of your Parvo and that's my final offer." Chance quirked up the corner of his mouth. "Can I still eat chocolate or is that now off-limits?"

"No sickness for us," I confirmed. "But were all the security cameras definitely off? Absolutely no footage of the person, even all in black, or a shadow?"

"Radio blank. I'll text you when I find something." Chance raised a hand to dismiss us. "Till net time, children."

I felt Ben tense up beside me but I didn't rise to the bait. "Sweet searching, Chance." Then I turned on my heel and started back the way we'd come. The pack followed.

We walked for a few moments in silence. Egrets and waders moved away from the pools near us, muskrats and swamp rabbits skipping away from the track. The path was cracked from so long in the sun.

Eventually, Hi called out from the back, "No, Tory."

I called over my shoulder, "You haven't heard anything yet!"

"I don't need to. I already don't like it."

Shelton groaned. "A plan, already. Really?"

"Tory's always got a plan," Ben replied.

I grinned despite myself. "You'll love it. And there won't be armed gunmen."

"That's what you always say." Shelton sounded more resigned than angry. I always did manage to convince them for our investigations, even if only because Ben or Hi got as damn curious about mysteries as me. "You almost ended up dead on Sunday and you're already chasing ghosts again?"

"You've actually overestimated me this time."

Shelton huffed but didn't reply. Hi theatrically whispered, "don't give her any ideas.:

I waited until we were all aboard _Sewee _before divulging my plan. It was really more of an instruction for research. And the boys soon agreed it wasn't a bad idea.

We needed to know who might have broken in – if anyone really had. Ben was quick to point out that since there was no footage or proof other than Chance's word, it might all be BS.

Which was true, but I still wanted to find out as much as we could without Chance. We couldn't let escaped Virals roam randomly, whether they were freed by an infiltrator or not. My primary suspects were people living on Cole, since there were certainly non-Candela buildings there on google maps. They were as good a starting point as any.

Hi had snarked, Ben steered the boat indifferently, Shelton used his iPhone to search the phone books online for registered inhabitants of Cole.

"Doesn't mean that this is everyone living here, though," Shelton warned. "They might not have phones or be registered as living there."

"Well if we investigate suspicious inhabitants first, we might get info that helps us find the more reclusive inhabitants."

"Or ex-directory."

"Yes, thanks Hi."

"Aha!" Shelton's 3G had finally produced something. "Only one registered inhabitant. Makes it easier for us. A Mr K Gruber. Lives just off the road."

"Who'd want to live on Cole with Candela sitting over you?" Hi mused.

I shrugged. "Who'd want to live on Morris with no access anywhere?"

"We have Ben, and Mr Blue."

"You get my point."

Hi nodded. I grinned round at everyone. "What're your plans for tomorrow?"

As it turned out, _I _was the one with plans for Friday night. Except I remembered only when I was in bed seven hours later.

_Idiot!_

Would Ella mind? I could probably persuade her to come on a random jaunt to Cole for snoop around K Gruber's house. The pack could take it in turns to distract her from the legally dubious side. Then we'd be home for dress-up by teatime, just as Whitney would like. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

It was, after all, just a minor B and E. No theft or assault. Probably.

I decided to leave the news-breaking to the morning. Give the boys time to get accustomed to the fact that we were planning another felony. My plan hadn't _started_ that way. Plus it'd be rude to wake them up by texting at night.

I waited until we were safely seated on _Hugo _before breaking the news. Hi and Shelton couldn't escape from me on the boat to school.

"So guys…" I began, "I may have forgotten a minor detail about our… boat trip this afternoon."

"Does it mean we don't have to go?" Shelton wanted to know, ever-hopeful.

"Nope. But, um, you see, Ella and I had arranged a girls' meeting tonight at mine. So would you mind if she maybe came along too?"

Hi coughed, scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, uh that'd be cool. She's cool."

"You're bringing a friend along to our crime." Shelton buried his head in his hands. "We culd send out invitations next time. RSVP."

"So you're okay if she comes?"

"Sure. What's another young offender to our organised crime ring?"

"At least it's Ella," Hi said. I ignored his implications of who else it might have been that they didn't want. "Plus my mom's got it into her head that we need to go to my aunt's tonight for a full-on day at temple tomorrow. If I tell her I'm spending time with a girl, I might be able to get out of it."

"So could I give you main custody of her, O supreme distractor? And _I'm _a girl."

"Sorry Tor, but according to my mom… nope."

"I wear dresses, and do – _did _– Cotillion and whatever she thinks girls do!"

"And you're also kind of… taken." Hi held up his hands. "I'm not saying by whom, or judging you, or any of that crap. Just that you are a guy to Mom and cannot get me out of temple later."

"Fine. Just so long as we can have our party of six."

"What's the story, then? That you're going to tell her? I'm assuming we're trying to keep our criminal record to a minimum." Shelton had a point.

I thought for a moment. We didn't want to hint at a wider scenario for why we needed to investigate. Obviously none of our actual viral info. And nothing the police should rightly have.

"Related to Hawfield? You'll have to back me up on being vague, wanting to personally cover up potentially missed bases, potential accomplices. He's Hawfield's… uncle. Yeppers."

Hi shrugged. "Not bad, Brennan. Deal's on." He fist-bumped me, exploding it.

"Do you want us to start digging a grave now?"

"Stop being so pessimistic."

"Oh, and Tor," Hi added, "for the love of all cheese-flavoured foods, please don't try to flare. Even I won't be able to explain your 'seizures' to Ella."

"More than fine by me." I didn't plan on having Hi inside K Gruber's house anyway. "I just need to text Ben the developments in our plan."

He responded with **Got it.** almost immediately, so we were still on for after school.

I hoped I hadn't bitten off more than I could chew.

* * *

**A/N: Dudes, hope you liked this! And are excited about the next chapter. I definitely am. Seriously, I have been very hyper about writing 1.6 and 1.7, you have no idea. And virls101, Wolfgirlrocks1 and oceansoul85, your lovely reviews for last chapter really helped me break the wall of writer's block (aka. "can't get into the zone because life is so busy I have nearly no time to write") for this story, in a few chapters' time. Thank you so much to **_**all **_**the incredible reviewers, you encourage me so much, and without you it is unlikely I'd still be here, seriously.**

**Also oceansoul85, Ben's "I'm so annoyed at you" to "I will forever have your back" switches make up like 90% of the reason I love BenxTory too ;) Next time: escaping animals, Cole capers, and Ella teasing. **


	7. 1 - 6

**6.**

"Tory!" I heard Ella's voice. So she had made it to the spot outside the Marina Variety Store Restaurant where we were meeting… but I couldn't see her. I span, nonplussed, only to get whipped across the face with her braid as she leapt out from behind me. I didn't hesitate to throw my arms around her and squeeze hard.

"Ella! I've missed you." We broke away and I grinned at her.

"So what's the gossip you've not told me over text?"

"First things first," I grabbed her arm and towed her towards the spot where _Hugo _was moored. "Let's get on board or we'll be totally isolated til 5."

"No dress comparing. Bummer," she said dryly.

As we approached the boys – Shelton fiddling with his glasses, Hi bobbing his head to an invisible iPod – I reminded her who was who, just in case. Wouldn't want Hi acting wounded for a week because she'd called him Shelton.

"Hey Ella," Hi greeted her, "looking as fabulous as ever."

"Are you okay after, y'know, the weekend?" Shelton asked.

My friend shot Hi a strange look and went with Shelton's question. "Yeah, thanks. It's nice to escape my enforced bedrest, re-enter society before our debut at the Mag League tomorrow." Her eyes rolled. "Mama is far too excited about the whole process."

"There's a _process?_" How had I missed this?

"Well, you know, the number of hours you have to put into each area. Plus it can be a good place to locate a new beau, she says. Meaning, catch a rich one. As if that wouldn't be the most awkward situation in the world."

"Ugh." I laughed, sharing her distaste. "No, thanks. Whitney is like a poodle on steroids about it too. I was thinking we could go out for a bit before doing the dresses, show you some fabulous undeveloped Lowcountry mud?"

"Fine by me. But don't think you've distracted me from the topic of men. Have you finally done anything about Jason Taylor? Ignoring texts about him since Sunday doesn't get you out of this, FYI."

We stepped onto _Hugo _and I busied myself with the line while trying to formulate an answer. "Well, I've made up with him. He practically carried me to class yesterday after my fainting attack. I was hoping maybe he'd get the message?"

"You are sending no clear messages there, girl." Ella shook her head, causing the Hi and Shelton's eyes to follow her braid. "Men never get the message. I mean, you could turn up with a new boyfriend and there's still a chance he'd persist. Although," she added, "Jason _is _rather a Southern gentleman. If you're so definitely uninterested that you'd be happy for Ashley or Maddy to snatch him up, you could try the fake boyfriend manoeuvre."

"Why the phoney attitude all of a sudden?" I teased.

"Blame it on the excessive Jeremy Kyle this week. By all means, break it to him gently that you don't want to be romantically involved."

I sighed. "Okay, you win. I cannot think of a way to tell him."

"Then who do you want to be your fake boyfriend?"

I froze up for a second before realising she was joking. I forced a laugh; Ella saw straight through me.

"Ohh no, Brennan." She leaned in, examining my face. "Wow. It all makes sense now. Although you could have just told me earlier."

I turned to Hi. "So are you definitely out of temple tonight?"

He waved me off. "What makes sense, Ella?"

She sent a smug smile my way. "I don't suppose it's either of these two?"

"Please stop talking or I'll be forced to push you off this boat."

She chuckled. "We can discuss it later. They better be super-smoking-hot if they're keeping you from Jason middle-name-'Fit' Taylor."

Hi pulled a face. I fixed him with a steely gaze.

"Apparently Madison was asking Jason about me, so I'd be willing to bet my bed that she's planning something for tomorrow," I told Ella. "So please don't abandon me to them."

"Please. You're more than able to take her down again. She can barely look at you anymore."

"Madison was asking Jason about you?" Hi interrupted. Shelton looked alarmed too, but as tongue-tied as always in front of strangers.

"Yeah, yesterday, why?" I frowned at the other two. They knew why Madison _really _had a problem with me.

The boys shared a look. "Just some… goss we heard. She's apparently going out with Chance now. Hot new couple alert."

"Chance Claybourne? God." He was entangled in more lies than I'd realised. Crapballs. "That's bad timing for us."

"Why?" Ella looked at me funny. "Is he your one true love?"

"One awkward fling," Hi nodded sagely.

I sent him the stoniest glare I could muster. "You swore you'd never tell."

The rest of the ride was spent explaining to Ella Chance's manipulation of me in the Katherine Heaton case. I cringed the whole way. What had once been a personal embarrassment had turned into an all-too-public misconception. By the time we reached Morris, I was itching to change into a T-shirt and shorts to match Ella's. Throw off memories of Bolton ASAP.

We necked cool-down diet cokes and I changed into more suitable gear – "authentic" ripped denim shorts and old green tee to Ella's sleek black spaghetti-strap Calvin Klein top and floral high-waisted shorts. Then I grabbed my kit and Cooper, who was running in circles around my friend and yipping in excitement as she ruffled his ears.

Down at the dock, I made formal introductions between Ben and Ella. A brief stint as part of her rescue mission hadn't really given time for such social pleasantries. Much to Ben's masked chagrin, she cast off without being told, and I sat myself opposite her in _Sewee_'s stern.

"Tor, if you're sitting here, can I take your normal seat?" Shelton. "There's a few… details I need to bring Ben up to speed with."

Meaning, the Chance/Madison gossip without making Ella think he was effeminate. "By all means."

"You normally take co-captain?" Ella hadn't missed it, trailing Cooper as he ambled to plonk down in the usual spot between Ben and Shelton.

"Yeah. So, we're going to Cole Island because there's a Mr Gruber there we need to pay a social call."

"Strictly legal," Hi put in. "We never break laws. Especially not federal ones, no siree."

Ella nodded. "I wouldn't have thought you did, but cool."

"He's the only registered inhabitant out there, so we should be good to moor wherever."

"What, your only neighbour is Candela? Although," Ella continued with a wink, "I wouldn't mind having Chance Claybourne as my only neighbour. He won't call the cops on you guys anyway, will he? He clearly sees you as someone to keep around, Brennan, all the manipulation excuses behind. I mean, after Wednesday."

"Wednesday?" Hi's expression could be described nicely as 'gormless'. "What?"

"Chance was totally all over Tory at the art show. You should go for it."

The boat jerked forward beneath us at Ella's words. I saw Shelton grab Ben's arm out of the corner of my eye.

"I thought we just said he was going out with Madison?" I'll admit I was stalling her.

"Well yeah," she rolled her eyes, "but there was too much sexual tension between you two at the gallery to be overcome by that ho. Thing big, Tory."

I almost choked on my spit. "_Sexual tension?_ Ella, he blames me for his stint in the psychiatric hospital. Chance is out for my blood, and our 'history' is not providing a foundation for any thoughts other than avoiding his vengeance plan."

"What, not even a few?" She smiled wickedly. I couldn't help pouting a little too, coyly.

"I don't like him. End of story."

"Tory the heartbreaker. We could make you some sort of dating show," Hi mused. "Roll up, roll up! The snobbier you are, the less likely she is to have you."

I reached over and punched him. "And what about one for you? We'd have to practice those _fantastic _conversational skills of yours first, of course. Or just really find you some."

Hi pouted like a forlorn puppy dog. Coop shoved a wagging tail into his knee.

* * *

Despite google maps and the phonebook address, Mr Gruber's house was not easy to find. There were many decrepit buildings surrounded by coppices, with narrow tracks winding up to them from the single tarmac road. Ella hadn't yet needed the cover story, but that might change if we never found the damn place. I prayed she wouldn't ask. It was by no means foolproof, even if we left her with Hi.

Eventually, through the combined use of Shelton and Ben's navigational skills and iPhone compasses, we found the correct run-down barn. Surrounded by several clumps of hacked-short marsh pines, the piles of rocks marking the path there scarcely passed as cairns. They marked a very crooked route to Last Roost, which looked in as much disrepair as the abandoned buildings.

The six of us stood outside for a minute, gazing at the 1.5 stories of tumbledown grey brick. It could've been Mediterranean with the variety of fierce flowers that had reclaimed the place, covering the grate to the sort-of roof. Only a glimpse of neatly closed door and organised pottery inside the paned windows convinced me we'd got the right place.

I glanced back at my companions before opening the farm-size gate with a scream of rusty hinges. I staggered backwards as it dropped into my hands, quickly shoved it back into its original position. Over it was.

Coop wriggled under and pawed at the ground, waiting for me. I clambered over the thick ivy and dropped down to pet his head, rubbing his ears until he turned his head to lick my hand.

Once everyone had come over, officially standing on K Gruber's property uninvited, I walked up to the door and knocked. There was no knocker but my fist made dull thuds twice, so I figured that was announcement enough.

Then a step back from the door. Expectant waiting.

Nobody came.

That wasn't too unusual. I tried knocking again, but had a feeling from the utter stillness of the place that there was nobody home. The others seemed to get it too. Cooper barked loudly, nosing round the doorframe, but nobody came out.

Hi slid me a sideways glance. "I'll go, uh, check the gardens out back."

"Good idea," I said, "Ella, why don't you go with him?"

"But –"

"Yeah, and then we'll try over here," Shelton supplied, too casual with his tone as if the idea was almost pointless. _Boys. _

Hi made to follow the trail to the left of Gruber's house; when Ella didn't follow I gave her an encouraging smile and nudged her with my elbow, then pretended to survey the right-hand edge so she was left without options.

It worked. They disappeared off, and Shelton immediately dropped to a knee, working on the front door with Ben and I standing guard.

We needn't have bothered. The door swung open five seconds in.

I gaped at Shelton. "Is that a new record?"

"There was no lock," he explained. "Wow. I thought all old geezers were super-paranoid."

"How do we know he's an old geezer?"

"Who else would live out here?"

"Hustle, guys." Ben shouldered through us into the house and I followed, staring around.

It was a stark contrast to the last house we'd broken into (the Gables', last Tuesday). The downstairs was all one big room, covered with clay jars of exotic-looking plants and small animal cages. Or rather, open cages lines with soft feathers and blankets. They covered every surface, from the tables and sink units across the back and front walls of stone, to the table, and the floor.

The simple single table in the centre had exactly one large and worn carpet armchair in front of us, facing out of the wide back window, which overlooked the marshes down to the sea. I began to formulate an idea of the sort of person who might live out on Cole Island with no neighbours – that the phone books knew of, anyway.

The lack of animals was disturbing me, though. Clearly K Gruber had a thing for flora and fauna. He could easily be the one who went nuts over three trapped dogs.

I said as much to Ben and Shelton. They nodded.

"Shall I check the loft? And keep Coop out of the cages so we don't leave more of a trace behind than we have to. Can he maybe stand guard?" Shelton's tone was hushed but still echoed in this small stone space. I hadn't even noticed the rough-hewn wooden ladder to the loft space.

I nodded. "As few surprises as possible."

"I'll check that storage space." Ben gestured to the large cupboards.

That left the cages and surfaces for me. I didn't know what I expected to find, but being here was better than nothing, even if just because it _felt _like we were doing something.

I bent to start the search.

* * *

**A/N: I love writing Ella, she's basically me if I was Southern USA and Bolton Prep-rich. But her lack of knowledge about the Virals' problems can get annoying :P **

**While my chapter backlog has been shrinking (mostly due to a humungous workload and illness) I do hope to work on this story over JulNoWriMo! And maybe some PJO shipweeks drabble too, but that'll be posted on my tumblr because I can't write Percy Jackson fanfic decent enough to publish here. Zero plot, yo.**

**I AM SUPER EXCITED FOR NEXT CHAPTER. YOU WON'T BE DISAPPOINTED. Upcoming: animal rights, kiss revisited, Katherine's eagles.**


	8. 1 - 7

**7.**

"He really doesn't look tech-savvy," Ben muttered. I glanced up from the rusting but well-cleaned sink unit to see him pick up and drop an ancient-looking telephone. Sweet Jesus, was that from the 1950s? 40s?

"Definitely not enough to disable security cameras," I agreed. "If we got anything from last week, it was knowing that Candela hasn't skimped on its security."

I crouched to examine the tank sitting beneath the sink, beside the plumbing. In here, at least, the resident amphibians and fish were still present.

So what had happened to all the rest? I suspected they might be with Mr Gruber – but where was he?

If only we could safely flare…

Well, less dangerously flare. It had never been safe, per se.

I stood up, moving onto the wooden crates and mesh cages atop the sturdy oak table. I was leaning over when the flash of awareness – the one denoting Chance as flaring – swept over me. What had once been a gentle pull, a prickling similar to my constant vague consciousness of the other Virals, had turned into a mental shove.

I wasn't prepared and almost knocked a box off the table. Ben turned, shoulders still buried in bags of pet food, raised his eyebrows. "You okay?"

"Chance and his bloody flaring," I muttered angrily. "He's gaining control of my senses and I don't like it."

"So you can see why we moan." I ignored that.

"Why do I only recognise his flare sometimes?"

Ben came over to the table where I had my hands braced. "I don't know how possible anything is, so don't shoot me down. But could he be doing all this deliberately, messing with you?"

I shook my head. "It's too… unconscious. Like how I always know where you guys are. He wouldn't manipulate us like that."

Ben snorted. "Are you really letting him off that easy?"

I looked up sharply. "Chance me manipulated me a year ago for his father. I hated – _still _hate – him for it. But I can't leave him stranded now. He's Viral."

Ben just shook his head. Snorted. Like a bloody horse. The gauntlet really had been thrown down. "God, you're still so hung up on him. Another pretty-boy snob, and they're –"

"No, I am _not._" I stepped around the table corner to face Ben furiously, my stare drilling into his. "What do you want me to do to show you how much I don't like Chance, or any other 'pretty-boy snobs', huh?"

"It must be hard, being so wanted by all the blokes you meet. Excuse me if I don't want to dance to your tune any more."

"This – " I gestured between us, "was all your idea. It didn't go down so well the first time. Clearly I was deluded when 'we' almost happened the second time, five months later. We knew this would happen."

"What, can you read the future now too, as well as minds? And excuse me," Ben spat, "if you pin all the blame for 'this' on me. It takes two to tango, Brennan."

"You just pinned all the blame on me!" We were going round in circles. The blame game was a useless one. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to cut to the heart of the matter. "Why are you so mad at me?"

Ben looked away, head hung, mouth twisting grimly. "I… Am I just another manipulation? Let's get Ben out of here quick by kiss'n'running, since he'll just mess it up again?"

"No!" What a way to pick apart the first physical affection I'd shown, tarnish it and throw distrust at me. I was a sizzling Molotov Cocktail of fury and hurt. "You want to know what a murdering playboy's manipulative kiss looks like, Blue? It's this."

Ben's gaze snapped up to me as I moved right up close to him, only slightly to his right and my back to the table, so his eyes remained on mine. I took his right hand from its folded position and tried to trace patterns on it with my thumbs. His skin seemed burning hot, almost searingly so. My right hand moved to his hip, resting on the blue cotton shirt just above his waistband.

Then I slowly brought my lips to Ben's cheek, catching the corner of lips, but mostly tasting the burning, slightly rough, skin on his jaw. Briefly, so briefly. I focused on the teases of dark hair in my eyeline before lowering my head down, taking my hands back.

Ben's eyes tracked mine, pupils swollen and dark, lips slightly parted. I didn't move away from the closeness. Somehow, my hands felt lonely and awkward at my sides, so I pushed them back against the table. Focused on how Ben was looking at me like he was looking right inside me.

_Whoa boy._

"I don't like Chance," I whispered, cleared my throat, increased the volume a notch. "I might suck at… emotions, and dealing with them. But you have nothing, _nothing,_ to be jealous of." I leaned closer so a small shiver went through Ben at my breath on his lips. "So if you don't quit acting like a moron, I will personally feed you to Kit's rabid turtles."

Ben's mouth turned up into a kind of smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Rabid turtles. Right."

I was suddenly very aware of the lack of space between us. The warmth I could feel from Ben's body. How his chest was rising and falling with each breath, so close to mine. My gaze rose to his lips, jitters flooding me.

Sunday had been impulsive.

But holy smoking buckets, I could feel the impulse rushing at me headlong again.

A crash from the loft had be checking up, but nothing could be seen, and Coop wasn't barking in warning. When my eyes found Ben's again, he twisted his smile to one side.

"If you don't like Chance, or any other pretty-boy snobs, then who do you like?"

"Only one way to test it and find out," I challenged. My smirk matched his now, even as my heartbeat thrummed wildly.

His gaze slipped to my lips. I was hyperaware of him, the nearness and skin as he slowly closed centimetres –

"Hey y'all, next time I signal like that, it'd be great if – _holy sizzling frogs!"_ Shelton's voice neared the upper floor's balcony then retreated again swiftly. I sprang sideways from Ben, blood flooding my face, unable to look at him. "Can I come out?"

"Of course." Embarrassment and irritation coloured my tone to match my face.

"Pardon me for wanting to warn you about the impending disaster in 5, 4, 3…"

I finally heard it. The clatter and clash signalling danger, just as Coop jumped up from his door spot and growled before shooting straight out. I prayed he ran for Ella and Hi.

Too late for us now. The single door swung open.

A gigantic basket preceded the arrival. Sturdy plastic that dipped down as the shadowed figure tried to angle it inside, giving a full view of the assorted reptiles and rodents inside. Separate enclosures gave each an individual compartment.

I watched in disbelief as a small but broad-shouldered man shuffled inside with it, lowering the box onto the near bench, then trudged back outside. I squinted out of the doorway and saw other suitcase-sized trays sitting on a large luggage trolley.

_Cover story quick!_

K Gruber might have overlooked our frozen figures the first time around, but we couldn't slip around him and the trolley of furry friends. I desperately searched for any ideas. Conservationists? Concerned neighbours?

The second tray of animals was laid on the opposite bench; he walked right past us, humming. Mr Gruber still, incredibly, didn't spot Ben and I but went back for the trolley with the third remaining tray still laid on.

A strain of awareness pulled at me, leading upwards. Shelton had accidentally flares. I couldn't afford to do the same. The others might have tried to hide, but I had more hope. Gruber might be very helpful – although had no google hits for helpful charity work or otherwise – and we could easily get past him, I saw, if we needed to. Not that it would stop him pressing charges.

I gritted my teeth, trying to resist the flare, as Mr Gruber pushed the trolley of creatures towards us. Crossed the threshold. Lifted the tray onto the table cages. Balanced. Looked up at us.

Froze.

With my best smart smile in place, I said smoothly, "Good afternoon, Mr Gruber. Would you mind if we had a quick chat?"

"Chat?" His expression of naked bewilderment hardened. "I don't like them very much."

Damn. I mentally winced.

Quick change of cover story.

"Please sir," I pleaded, "we're so worried about our dogs. And I hoped you, being a great nature expert and all, might be able to help us." A massive guess. He didn't seem surprised, though.

"We're very anxious about them," Ben added. His 'upset' tone made Mr Gruber at least pause as he began to lift mice into floor homes, knees creaking.

"What makes you think I can help?" Gruff tone, not looking at us.

"We saw Chance Claybourne take our dogs when we were walking them at Battery Park on Tuesday. We think he might have them here somewhere." I imagined Coop really was stolen. It brought a wobble to my voice and lip. "Please, have you seen them? I'm so worried because… well… he's well-known for all that animal cruelty."

I let out a fake sob, covering my face with a hand. Prayed my acting wasn't too wooden or overkill. _Just think of Cooper._

Ben put an arm around my shoulders and patted my back. "C'mon Tory. It'll be okay. We'll find them somehow. Mr Gruber can help us." He looked up at the old man now. "Can't you, sir?"

"Hmph. I am not a fan of the Claybournes' cruelty, I must say, but I am also not out to go on the Candela black list. There have been many species of beautiful flora and fauna on this island that they have destroyed." He paused with a weasel – or maybe a stoat; Ben would know – in hand and slowly stroked it before placing tenderly in a roomy cage on the tabletop. The entire room was so stuffed with them I was beginning to feel like an inmate. "My family has been greatly depleted by Candela Pharmaceuticals' ugly, poisonous factories. No, no, we try to keep away from them as much as we can."

"But could you please keep an eye out for our dogs?" I asked, remembering to sniffle a few seconds too late. "Or even, if you see them… get them back?"

I had crossed the line, which at least gave better evidence for us. Mr Gruber drew himself up to his full height – which wasn't exactly tall, maybe an inch or two under Shelton. "I will do no such thing. Neither I nor my family will go near those evil factories. We have always stayed in _our _area ever since this land was sold to the company in 1969."

"But if you do see two Alsatians and a Collie, do phone us. Please. It's Ben and Tory," I added, trying to look upset. Ben pulled a pen that was wedged between two table cages and ripped a napkin corner from his jeans pocket to write my mobile number on.

"What are your full names?" Gruber clearly didn't trust us. I could live with that.

"Victoria and Benjamin Blue," I enunciated, remembering our 'family ties' at the last second.

_Ohmygod it sounds like you're married._

Ben clearly had the same thought. I felt more than saw him shoot me a look as he scribbled our names beneath the numbers.

"And what's your full name?" I asked, polite as possible.

"Karl Gruber. Lived here seventy years and I'm not moving now, in case anyone else asks you. Now scram. It's dinnertime."

I turned to go. A vague flare of panic in my head reminded me of Shelton. Whoops.

"Could we see this view before we go? It's such a beautiful frame of the Atlantic. Breathtaking." Ben flashed his pearly whites at Mr Gruber.

Karl's face cleared. "Oh yes. Ever so lovely. We all adore the view." He ambled over, chatting about the ocean and coastline. Ben nodded along, seemingly genuinely enjoying it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Shelton creeping down the ladder. A woosh, a slight pull in my mental Viral GPS, and he was gone to Hi and Ella. We probably needed to go too. But I didn't want to hurry Ben.

We waved goodbye ten minutes, Karl a lot happier than when he'd tried to shove us out before. We found the others behind his gate, casually huddled behind a short pine with Shelton and Hi wrestling to keep Coop's collar in hand. As soon as he saw me, he went beserkly happy. Nobody sent any weird looks hinting at superior knowledge of relationships.

One suspect down.

* * *

**A/N: damn that was a fun one to write. Plot is now picking up pace (and I'm talking the mystery here). Hope you enjoyed! Please tell me your thoughts below :) ALSO, I am so sorry that this has been a little longer than usual! I got so into JulNo that I completely forgot I'd starved you guys of updates. Since my prewrittens store is now lengthening with JulNo, hopefully they'll come a little quicker. Hopefully this chapter somewhat makes up...?**

**Next time: texting concentration, Ella's vanishing act, psychic babble**


	9. 1 - 8

**8.**

Mount Pleasant food bank, 9:08. Kit had almost forgotten to drive me here, and I almost didn't remind him. In the end Whitney pushed us both out the door, throwing designer shades after me.

Gucci. Very large and dark. I couldn't complain on either front for purpose. Not that I _wanted _to flare, but that was no longer always a choice.

I hopped out of the 4Runner with a wave over my shoulder to Kit. Mouthed 'noon'. I was sure three hours of this farce would be more than plenty. Even with Ella by my side, and our labour going towards a great cause, I was not wild about spending my weekend time in close quarters with the Tripod of Skank bossing us on how to pack cans into boxes.

_Blargh. _

I swung my free hair to cover my left shoulder as I tapped up the steps. When I had refused heels last nigh – my co-ordination did _not _extend to contraptions putting me over six foot – Ella had extracted a pinky swear that I would don this navy A-line dress. It was floaty linen, tastefully embellished and simple, a 'skater skirt' from the waist she had said. But it was short. Very short.

I had more than a sneaking suspicion that anyone following me up stairs would get an eyeful. Ella had claimed it my "legs go for miles". I now decided that meant "see where my legs end".

In retaliation for the shortness, I had voted on a garish pink number for her. Whitney had been so delighted with the choice that I'd been forced to hastily reconsider. Any dress causing the real-life Barbie such raptures as a social Chernobyl waiting to happen. Plan B, a ditzy orange and white affair, had promptly been swapped in.

I almost wished we'd kept the pink gown so I wouldn't feel alone in my exposure. What better place to almost show your underwear than the Mount Pleasant Presbyterian Church?

I shook my head. Paused at the doors – white and wooden, like everything else about the building's exterior.

Game face on.

I sailed in, trying to glide, half-smiling at anyone looking my way. The single large room seemed to be decorated in Regency style, with Greek columns twinned with lush red carpet. I wasn't up on my denominations, but it seemed a pretty nice crib for JC the carpenter.

I caught sight of the pastor, the only male in the room, speaking to the central throng of older ladies. Their volume of hairspray denoted their status as being in charge. The other forty or so junior and senior members milled between pews in the nave, spreading rumours and generating gossip. If I hadn't known better, I'd have said this was a meet'n'greet, not a charity event. There wasn't so much as a packet of cup-a-soup in sight.

Which begged the question: where was Ella? Or really, any vaguely recognisable faces? The ones down here all seemed to be too orange and fake. Maybe it would make spotting my friend easier.

I continued pushing gently through the mulling members. The overwhelming perfume stink made me cough a little, drawing several dirty looks from a clique of silk scarf wearers. I tried to ignore them, continue my quest. I was late, but not _that _late.

The church felt increasingly claustrophobic, sweat beading at my temples as I valiantly scanned the decadent room and women therein. Fancy chandelier? Check. Neat balconies and gilt detailing? Double check. A friendly face – even the Tripod would do now; I really was getting desperate – in the crowd? Nada.

I decided to take five. Probably had only circulated for that long, but I decided caution over stressing when it came to regulating flares and any weird sensations e.g. the paranoia and claustrophobia currently setting in.

Yeah, if I flared around Madison again, my pack would rip me to shreds for it. How much Madison knew now she was dating a Viral too, I had less than no clue. No desire to try my techniques for discovery out. But probably ought to be worried about her.

I gave a final glance around at the twittering busybodies and darted around one of the giant columns to hide there for a moment. I slipped out my phone from the borrowed cream leather messenger bag.

IMESSAGE: 16 NOTIFICATIONS. Well, crap. Looked like the boys had begun the negotiations without me.

**HS: So if u guys found zip who's our nxt suspect?**

**SD: No new leads = no more adventures, Hiram.**

**HS: Not even Chance w/ his potential BSing?**

**SD: How do you want to investigate /him/?**

**SD: We'd have to confront him again for that and give info in return. No go.**

**BB: What are we trying to find out?**

**HS: We cud try 2 find the mutts rselves? Tory makes a gd sniffer dog.**

**BB: Do we even want to find them?**

**SD: We need to find out what's wrong with us, dude. This was your terms.**

**HS: idk if I want the testing pkage, but I do know I'm not keen on escaped Viral dogs.**

**SD: Tor's flares are getting seriously messed up.**

**BB: It's Chance messing them up. How will going to him solve that?**

**BB: The point of him finding the mutts is to prove we can trust him.**

**HS: & in the meantym we jst wait round … kwl.**

**BB: Not like our secret's going anywhere.**

**SD: True.**

Oh man. I shook my head, typed a message back.

**TB: Unless, ofc, Madison realises her new beau is a 'demon' like us too.**

The replies were almost identical and instant.

**SD: Oh crap.**

**HS: 4gottn that detail.**

**TB: If I knew why the different awarenesses and wonky stuff happened, it'd be ok.**

**TB: Can't seem to see a pattern.**

**HS: Tried ur concentration trick?**

**TB: Not yet. Good idea.**

I locked my phone and leaned back against the stone pillar, closing my eyes. It had been a while since I'd used my old favourite method.

I shut out the giggling bustle behind me. Focused on the strange awarenesses, picturing them at the centre of my conscious. Increasing in strength, only occurring at certain times, and probably not every single time Chance flared, since they were so few and far between at first. So when _did _they occur?

I thought back to the memorable flashes last week: outside the Flying Tomato; on my way back from the Ben/parking lot disaster; when Chance told us he was Viral.

_Chance. _In proximity to him, the awareness.

And they were gaining in strength because… he was getting stronger in them? Able to control them more? More fully Viral? Something along those lines felt right, but I wished I knew what, and why.

Shaking my head, I opened my eyes and phone.

**TB: Got it. Chance awareness (we def need a proper name 4 it) when he's flaring close by. Increasing strength as he does. Idk why.**

**TB: Or why funky stuff is happening when I'm not flaring. Or why I can feel a weaker mental connection right now, when Chance clearly not present. **

**HS: Awesome work, team. Gr8 progress.**

**SD: You gonna investigate that last thing?**

A nearby titter caught my ears. Too close. I listened, caught a definite snatch of Ashley Bodford;s voice nearing me. Crap.

**TB: Tripod coming g2g sorry bye**

I locked my phone just as they rounded the pillar next to me. Zoomed in, surprised expressions in place. I tried to smile. Probably came out looking more like a grimace.

"Tory!" Ashley grinned widely, a snake about to swallow me whole. "I'm so glad we found you. We've been looking all over for you."

"You… have?"

"Yeah. I love your dress," Courtney appraised me. "You have really nice legs."

"Thanks." I looked to where Madison was hovering behind Ashley and staring at her nails like she wanted to bite the already-raw nailbeds. "Hey Maddy. Congrats on seeing Chance. You guys are a nice couple."

She narrowed her eyes at me doubtfully. "Thanks. I didn't expect to see you here, in a church."

"Why not?" The rest of this game, I had been expecting. Not that.

Madison dropped her gaze to my bag, bit her lip, and hurried off with professionally dyed locks swinging. I frowned after her. "What is her problem?"

"What did you _do _to her?" I started, not expecting Ashley to respond. But her cutting eyes were fixed on me still. "Madison has been so spooked since you said 'boo' to her last year. It's so pathetic. How did you even do it?"

"I don't know," I shook my head. _Why are they still here? _"But I actually have to find Ella – "

"Oh, we know where she is," Courtney butted in, sending a sweet smile my way, "and we can get you to Jason Taylor too."

"He's here, today?"

"Yeah. He so likes you," Courtney added.

"Come with us. We'll avoid the hags this way." Ashley closed her cold hands around my upper arm and pulled me towards a small door in the corner I'd not spotted before. "I love how close you and Jason are. "It's absolutely adorable." We started up a narrow, whitewashed stairwell.

"Mm-hm. Are you 'close' to anyone at the minute?"

"Well Courtney's dating my second-cousin's friend Zac but he's actually _quitting _the Citadel can you believe?"

"He's totally into this surfer skank anyway. I might hook up with one of his crew who's still in school." Courtney pulled out lipgloss and smeared it over her already-dripping lips.

"Good plan," I told her sweetly. Most of my brain was screeching _what are you doing?! _The remaining part kept searching for Ella or Jason, while simultaneously keeping me afloat here.

Ashley pushed open the door straight ahead and we emerged onto a scarlet-carpeted balcony overlooking the nave below. My eyebrows rose at the production line up here. There were food packets and cardboard boxes everywhere, women in dresses as tight and bright as the Tripods' industriously sorting long-life food.

As I skirted a particularly large cardboard box – still dragged along by Ashley – I heard Courtney saying, "Hey Jason," all sugary-sweet.

I looked up to catch sight of him standing up, box in hand, smiling widely. "Hey, girls. And Tory! Have you been assigned up here too?"

"Assigned?" Ashley's fake nails were digging into my skin like claws. I tried to disengage. "Er, no."

"Well we're short on packagers. You want to come?"

"Sure, let's all go. How you doing, Jase?" Ashley stepped in front of me.

"Cool. But Ashley, I thing Mrs Vertrees was asking for you, over that way. See you later."

He simultaneously manoeuvred past the remaining legs of the Tripod and hustled us two away. I tried to muffle my giggles til we were out of earshot.

"Nicely done," I told him. "But how come you're here?"

"They've apparently been storing the food donations up here, so we have to package up here, but then the boxes need to hit the trucks somehow. So my mom dragged me here to be the muscle for moving them downstairs."

"Well I'm glad you're here." I smiled up at him. A pang went through me as I remembered Ella's words. Was this leading him on?

"Victoria!" A tall and buxom olive-skinned woman wobbled over to me on her Manolos. "Victoria Brennan!"

"Yes Ma'am?"

"Right you're here. First chapter meeting, good. Have you seen Ella Francis? She was supposed to fetch my daughter and Courtney Holt ages ago!"

"No Ma'am, I'm sorry," I said politely. "Where did you see her last?"

"By the packaging."

"I'll send her if I see her."

"Thank you. Now back to work, back to work!"

I jumped to, following Jason. Where was Ella? Her vanishing act was unnerving when she'd said she'd meet me somewhere visible. At least Jason was here to save me from the witches.

He showed me to the abandoned packaging area, which was piles of filled boxes needing to be sealed and labelled. We settled into a routine quickly, each sticking and duct-taping a box, then Jason would haul them downstairs. Conversation was stilted but fun. No matter how I texted and checked for Ella, she didn't materialise.

At eleven, we took a break with some of my bottled ice water Whitney had handed me and a packet of Sour Patch Kids Jason had nicked from Sophia. His kid sister if she ate them, apparently, so it was his duty to take them off her hands.

By the time 11.50 rolled around, we had sorted over sixty boxes for the Mount Pleasant Food Bank. In the darkened corner, by the opposite door down to ground level, we had spent two and a half hours, the wall of boxes only felt slightly more open than before. But I felt I'd done my duty to society.

"I think we can stop here," I told Jason, ripping off the end of the duct tape for box #62. "Our duty has got to be fulfilled by now."

"Yeah, you think?" He gabbed the last of the boxes, laughing. "Let's head down."

I made to follow. As I pushed open the door to the stairwell, a sudden rush of voices filled my head. Not spoken words – internal ones. Loud ones. A clamour of psychicbabble.

In shock I almost fell to the floor, ending up on my knees instead. I clutched at my ears and squeezed my eyes tight shut, trying to feel the reassuring presence of my pack in the darkness.

For a horrible long moment, the voices were inescapable. They my boys emerged, and the other people receded.

"Tory!" I opened my eyes to Jason shaking my shoulders, food boxes thrown aside. "Oh my gosh, are you okay?"

"Another almost fainting attack." I smiled weakly. "Sorry for scaring you half to death."

"Come on, I'll get you outside. There's no fresh air in this place." Jason pulled my left arm over his shoulders easily, his right arm around my waist as support/ I concentrated on keeping my breathing even and mind stable. Not to mention my body upright and feet on the floor. Everything was tilting and shaking.

It was slow going, Jason holding me up almost all the way. I think my hair got in his face more than once. But yet again, Jason had unquestioningly saved my ass from body dropout and the voices in my head.

I stumbled as that thought crossed my mind. Wow. I was officially a wreck, a psychological field day. And Jason was… he was so loyal, faithful, simply helpful. I didn't deserve him. I needed to tell him I couldn't be more than a friend to him.

Couldn't I?

_No! _What was that madness?

It was my wrecked mind. I wasn't fit for _any _person right now.

We pushed out of the stairwell door into the back of the church, right beside its entrance. Jason didn't take his arm away but held me upright still, turning to examine my face with a small frown. "You're still so pale."

"I'll be okay. Jason, I need to talk to you."

"So go ahead." He glanced around, seemingly oblivious to my heavy tone. Would he still be my friend when I told him there was no possibility of anything else?

"Jason, we're friends, right?" I blurted. The words weren't coming out right. I closed my eyes as he looked at me quizzically. "I mean – we're _just _friends, right?"

"Whatever you want, Tor."

"Is that okay? Thanks." My head was spinning but that, at least, was a weight off my shoulders. I looked up at him and smiled weakly just as my phone buzzed.

Message from Kit. He was right outside.

"I have to go, but thanks for all the jokes and support," I told him, slowly moving out from under Jason's arm like a first-time walker. "Seriously, you're ace. Couldn't have done it without you."

"Anytime, Tory." He gave a wave as the door closed behind me. I descended the steps, shielding my eyes against the sun, and heading for Kit's car. My eyes caught movement off to the left –

"Francis!" I yelled. Ella froze and swivelled, a guiltily devious look crossing her face. "You done running away from me? Where have you even been all day?"

"Leaving you with loverboy for some bonding time." She winked. "Clearly it worked."

"You – well, I told him I just want to be friends. So that worked."

"Hey, good job Brennan." She zoomed over for a hug. "Whoa, you're extra-super-white. You okay?"

"Fainting attack again. Probably need to go home and sleep it off."

"Catch up on _Gossip Girl. _It's the best medicine there is – oh wait you still won't watch it!"

"Not while Bear Grylls still has unviewed pearls of wisdom for me." I felt better for talking to her. "See you Monday."

"Yeah right. See you on iMessage."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you've enjoyed this extra-long chapter, I probably tried to squeeze too much in, but it was fun to write, and a bit earlier than usual. I hope you liked the developments! And what is going wrong with Tory?!**

**I want to say a massive thank you to all my reviewers – we hit over thirty in eight chapters, which is ~awesome~. Special shout-out to stormyskies73, virls101, oceansoul85 and Wolfgirlrocks1, since your regular lovely reviews make me so happy :3**

**Next time: mysterious texts, problem lists, an unexpected hatred…**


	10. 1 - 9

**9.**

I endured my father's enforced bedrest for the rest of Saturday. He would stand for nothing else after I told him about my second "fainting attack". Possibly the fact that I'd forgotten to tell him about the first one didn't lessen Kit's displeasure.

Sunday morning saw me as chipper as usual (read: zombie-like until coffee) and managed to wrangle my way outside with the promise of calling immediately if I felt anything less than 100% healthy. The boys and I spent the morning going in and out of Morris Island coves, rating them on accessibility, beach, mysteriousness, and swimming. Hi was compiling a comparative list. Probably he would have designed a set of Top Trumps cards by this time next week.

I had spent the whole time dodging loaded looks and, after briefly explaining what happened with the voice rush at the Mag League the day before, pretending like I didn't know flares as anything but emergency fireworks.

We ate a late lunch of beef sandwiches, courtesy of Ruth Stolowitski, who apparently loved pairing mustard with every known filling. Then Ben had to get back to drive to his mom's, and Hi and Shelton reminded me of our English project. Another thing I'd been avoiding thinking of, until I suddenly found myself alone in the townhouse on Sunday afternoon with the _thoughts _not leaving me be.

Kit was out supporting Whitney at her pie thing, so I had the house to myself. A real empty space to sort out my mental pile of crap. Fantastic.

I knew I needed to confront it. Really, really didn't want to.

Remembering Mom's actions when she had too much to think about, I grabbed markers and a plain sheet. List time. What unresolved issues did I have?

The white page looked scarily blank. I tried to breathe deeply, not get overwhelmed, as was happening too often recently. Take up yoga or meditation one of these days.

_- Ben – do I want to be more than packmates? _My immediate gut feeling was yes. _But what will that do to the pack?_

Okay. I was feeling better already. As long as I didn't try to actually answer these questions, it could work.

_- Flares randomly strong or snupping_

_- Flare voices knockouts_

_- Flare disconnection from body_

_- Flare awareness of others_

Those categories seemed a lot. But accurate. It was scary looking at them written down with no way around the horrible problems until we got them tested scientifically.

_Way to beat about the bush. _I felt sick at the thought of someone attaching electrodes to me and measuring my movements, brain activity. And I was the one who (supposedly) wanted Chance's treatment.

I felt sicker at the thought of my mind severing from my body again, though.

Bringing me neatly to the other sources of pressure…

_- Chance – how to help him. Do we want his help? _I certainly needed it, if the last week was any indication, whether I wanted it or not. Even the thought of the Marina Voices Attack made me want to run for the bathroom.

This was how I was categorising them: by attack types, just like when we started our flaring and had no control over our internal upheavals then either. What if my body was rejecting the wolf? It could be gaining more control, too. Maybe as large a genetic alteration as the original one that made us Viral.

We had changed to the core once.

We change like that again.

And the others weren't even getting these… issues. Ben's flare seemed to be more stable than ever, occasional difficulties opening up aside. Was this all from Chance too?

I noted all my questions and theories down. Ripped the part about Ben off the top of the sheet, snipping this slip into tiny pieces over the recycling bin. Then I snapped a pic of my list and sent it to the boys with a request for a virtual meeting tomorrow.

I didn't want to stay around for their responses, so whistled for Cooper. Our twenty-minute walk morphed into an hour, then two. By the time we got back from stalking the dunes, it was growing dark. But I knew what I needed to do.

Ben wouldn't like it.

But I picked up my phone from the table where I'd left it and sent the text anyway.

* * *

"Here's to a more normal week!" Shelton seemed buoyed by the prospect. Hi frowned at his words; I remained quiet and poker-faced.

"A little drama would be good," Hi ventured, "but I'm more than happy to ditch the danger. Meth not death."

"This isn't _Breaking Bad. _Meth is easily death."

"Don't be such a killjoy, Devers. The high life is the best life."

"This from your wide experience of drugs. I suppose you get them off the women you're surrounded with 24/7?"

"Of course." Hi brushed invisible dirt off his shoulders.

I really wanted to tell them. I felt terrible that I hadn't told them. This was a decision I'd made alone that impacted all of us.

What I really wanted to do was phone Ben – which was ridiculous and also definitely infeasible. Not least for the fact that he was currently driving and I was stuck with Tweedledum and Tweedledee, who somehow managed to talk themselves to Middle Earth and back before we even docked.

They asked me once if I was okay, then moved onto some other space-based TV programme I didn't know. As we headed down the Eighth Wonder of the World that is Charleston marina, my phone pinged a text from Whitney.

A reminder to pick up some more of her favourite Organic Local Sea Salt, "vital to our one-on-one cooking class tonight". An event which, much like all other things involving Ms Dubois, I hadn't been consulted about happening. I was beginning to suspect she never did even ask me about them anymore, just presenting them to me as set in stone.

I rerouted the boys before texting back. She responded with about sixty XOs and the explanation that I needed to vouch for one acceptable Finishing skill for Saturday's Mag League Chapter Meeting. _Blargh._

Shelton and Hi looked briefly worried about my teeth-grinding before I explained "Whitney." And texted back I had soccer practice tonight so could we cook tomorrow.

The sports would be good, sure to work me hard after my weeks of inertia; the sooner I got back into shape, the better. And it would put off my facing the pack, which had to be done ASAP. All cards on the table, no holds barred. I'd have preferred it to be a face-to-face affair but would settle for the vidcon scheduled.

_Don't think about it now. _The boys would know later today, which was good enough.

Somehow, I didn't think I'd be have to stop telling myself this all day. It was going to be a long one.

* * *

"And… we're free!" Ella sashayed down the hall, grabbing my arm and swinging me round with her. I couldn't help laughing; she was way too enthusiastic about returning to school. I appreciated having her back, though.

"Does it feel like a prison again yet?" I teased.

"Not quite. Better see how our field skills are holding up first. Go go go, Brennan!"

I rolled my eyes. "Pretty sure I won't be able to outrun a dead fish I'm so out of shape. Shouldn't the captain be the one in the changing rooms and pitch first?"

"Yep, so if you don't move your skinny ass immediately, I'm dragging you all by myself."

"Go ahe – WHOA!" I had possibly underestimated Ella's strength for dragging me. She seized my wrist in an unbreakable grip and towed me through the halls until we reached the locker rooms.

"We the _team!_" Ella yanked her kit from her locker so hard I thought the whole block of lockers might topple under her football frenzy. It was great to see her so animated again. I grinned as I teased my wrist away.

"Hey, you want to give this body part back to me?"

"Maybe." Ella winked and released me. "Did you get the shinguards I instructed you to get?"

"Ah." I pulled a face. "No. Kit forced bedrest on me for the weekend."

"Damn." She shook her head, then lit up as a clump of the team drifted in. "Yo guys! You ready for some proper training?"

"But it's so hot out," Megan Hathaway lamented. "And you're too chipper for such a stuffy day, Cap'n."

"Well just don't put on as many layers as Vi," Ella told her. Violet Stanley was notorious for the amount of layers she wore for practice, often playing defence with me. Entering behind Megan, though, she didn't laugh this time. Vi might be quite shy but she didn't usually take offense easily. I raised an eyebrow at Ella, but she shrugged and carried on simultaneously undressing and greeting her team.

Megan was right: it was blindingly hot on the exposed soccer field, and my pale skin was pinked within seconds. I was sweating even before we'd finished chasing the chimney boys – so called for their disgusting smoking habits – away. It felt good to be running around again, though. Coach seemed pleased to have us all back together too, almost as much as Ella, who was bouncing everywhere like she was practicing to be the second Flash.

She was absolutely on fire as we ran through agility drills and passing/receiving manoeuvres. A little more red in the face than usual, perhaps, but just as vocal as usual in getting us to work together better. By the time four rolled around, I was feeling wiped out but more than pumped for our practice game.

Seven-a-side. A good number for practicing our position-team moves. With Ella on the opposing team, Violet and I were sure to see a lot of action down our goal end.

As predicted, within thirty seconds, Ella had passed the ball to her forward Megan, who then dodged around me and shot. Violet rescued me, stopping the ball before it reached the goalie.

I dashed to the opposite side of the pitch. Waved my arms to show Violet I was currently, briefly free for the moves we'd just been practicing – admittedly not as a pair with each other, but this was practically handed to my right defender on a plate.

She glanced at me. Took aim. Kicked way up pitch to where somehow stopped it and booted it into goal. I frowned at Violet. Way to miss a chance to practice our moves, but better luck next time.

Or not.

Three more times she got the ball and didn't pass it to me when I was obviously unmarked. Worse, I used the 'cross-goal for up-pitch' move twice by passing to Violet, and she simply let the ball sail past, off the pitch. Cue some sort of side advantage for the other team (I still wasn't down with the offside rules yet).

This wasn't just passive aggression, ignoring me with no active seeking. Violet Stanley was going out of her way not to work with me.

I was more confused at first, shrugging off her weirdness. Why did quiet Violet – daughter of a churchman, if I recalled correctly – refuse to interact with me?

After a drastically terrible lose to Ella's team at the whistle's blow, however, I was sick of the game and swapped confusion for fury. But before I'd even gotten the chance to talk to her, Ella was storming down the pitch. If I was mad, Ella was madder. Hell hath no fury like the captain of a woman scorned.

"What the hell was that?" she yelled. "Defenders, you played like shit. What is your problem?"

All the players drew together in a knot near the centre of the pitch. I aimed my words at Violet. "I can't defend the goal as a team if the other defender is refusing to work with me! Why the cold shoulder? You let the other team make a killing."

The recipient of my words didn't even look my way, keeping her eyes on our captain, making no movement to indicate she'd heard me. I was seized by the sudden worry that I'd accidentally wormed inside her mind and made her forget about me somehow, but shook it off as ridiculous. I didn't have that kind of energy and time to spare that mind-altering would require.

"Hey, you heard Tory. What's going on?" Ella grabbed the other girl's shoulders now. "Violet Stanley! Why aren't you speaking to Victoria?"

"I'm not allowed." The words seemed to tumble out by accident. She covered her mouth after, cheeks burning redder, eyes glued to the ground.

"Why not?" I narrowed my eyes, but Vi ignored my words. Ella cut me a sideways glance and repeated the question with an added shake of Violet's shoulders for good measure. This could be a long process.

"Because my father said so."

"And why doesn't Reverend Stanley want you talking to Tory?" That was Megan with an added eye-roll for good measure. She was clearly used to this sort of thing.

"Because…" Violet glanced at me involuntarily and shivered. "Because…"

"Tell me!" Ella commanded.

"Because she's possessed! By an evil demon! I have to stay away because what if she curses me too?" Violet started shaking. Ella clamped her fingers in harder, jaw set.

My body was frozen frigid, mind racing, all blood draining from my head to my feet. The implications flooded through my brain faster than deliberate thought.

_Possessed._

I think I was shaking too, but Ella shook Violet, not me, and the team encircling us whispered behind hands, offering no help to either side.

"That's nonsense. Even if Tory was a freaking demon, you'll see a worse one in me if you don't stop this ignoring business. We need a good team together, you hear me?"

Violet nodded, still studiously avoiding looking at me since her mistake earlier.

"Who said that stuff anyway? Why's your daddy going about telling you Tory's possessed?" Ella's last word was said in a scathing tone, but she wasn't relinquishing her tight grip on Vi's shoulders. In the bright sunlight bouncing off her black braid and gleaming face, expression stiff with leaderly protection and problem-solving, I saw a flash of what it mean to look up to an alpha.

But Violet's answer had me crashing back to earth with a nasty smack of guessing the answer already.

"M-Madison. Dunkle. She says Tory once tried to possess her." Violet's lip began to wobble, tears on the verge of being let forth. Ella shook her head and released her prisoner, obviously deciding that this didn't need any more questioning now, telling the team it had been a good practice back and to go shower.

I didn't want to face them, a new host of people staring at me like I was a freak. Well, like the freak I was. So I stayed back with Ella.

"Good game plan," I told her. We both knew I didn't mean the soccer.

My friend sniffed. "We've got what we can for today. I can talk to her better tomorrow. It'll be all sorted by the end of the week."

Listening to her talk like that, I almost believed it. Enough that I could smile and nod, like that word didn't still feel branded on my forehead, eyelids, brain.

_Possessed._

* * *

**A/N: aaand that concludes Part One! I hope it was suitably confusing but compelling. As I may have mentioned elsewhere (or not, I can't remember) my aim is to practice my suspense writing. **

**Thank you for the lovely lovely reviews on my last chapter! And there are a lot of accurate guesses out there for what's to come… ;) As stormyskies73 perfectly put it, this is **_**my **_**way too of not going mad waiting for "Terminal"! I just had too many ideas to contain about the final book, ha. (Although I really hope Brendan does as he wants to and continues on the series after "Terminal". I love the Pack way too much.)**

**Tune in next time for Part Two… !**


	11. prologue II

**Prologue II**

The tracker smiled. In the light of their computer screen, the room black as fate, their teeth gleamed bright white. Almost supernaturally white.

_Oh, Chancey. _Round and round the blocks again, looking for his lost friends. Even with the new nose he'd developed, Mr Claybourne was hopelessly wound up, and even further from locating those pets than when he'd begun. _Ring a ring of roses_…

The dogs were perfectly happy in the shed the tracker had left them in. Left only at the bottom of their garden, large though it was, the dogs were easily accessible for food, water, air. But no walks. That wouldn't do, not when so many precautions had been taken to ensure their secrecy. Just in case Chance managed to wildly exceed expectations. Which was unlikely, but not impossible, after all.

He wouldn't recover these pets, and even if he was on the right trail, the tracker would know. Every movement, every phone screen, they would see. They weren't even that used to technology – certainly not the sort of person you'd expect to own an up-to-date kitted-out macbook, let alone a decent volume of hacking and tracking knowledge.

The Claybourne heir didn't so much as turn off his background apps, silly boy. But it had proved surprisingly handy when Victoria added herself on that GPS app, the fool.

Everyone around here knew who she was after the nationwide news story of her bringing down the Gamemaster. That was a psychopath and a half! Not to mention her Bolton reputation. No, the tracker could tell from these not to underestimate her.

But interest had been truly sparked when Chance was talking to her at the art show nearly a fortnight ago. And a week ago she had popped up on Chance's iFollow, making her incredibly easy to track, even if Morris Island reception was dodgy. This had been done before. One would've thought the silly girl would delete all traces of such a dangerous app right there and then, for all the good it had done her before.

But no. Victoria seemed a darn sight less stupid than Chance in some ways, but just as stupidly unskilled in the department of common sense. She'd managed to bring down the psycho; Chance never realised anything was up with their little crew for a _whole year._

It didn't matter anyway. All the tracker wanted was just that – track them, trail them, train an eye on them at all eyes.

No "what then"s were currently under consideration.

* * *

**A/N: short 'n' sweet. More clues soon…!**

**However, I've just seen some of the big new Virals news (aka. the blurb release). See my profile for a discussion on that. Not sure how it'll impact "Catalyst" because this was originally intended to be my idea of how "Terminal" would turn out. How close to Brendan's hints do you think I should stay?**

**Plus today is the first day of my summer holidays! Hello six weeks of reading lists and projects, but at home, yay! Next time: Cooper cuddles, big news, Candela's lab rats.**


	12. 2 - 1

**Part Two: Analysed**

**10.**

I dodged questions all dinner, saying little if anything. Only knowing I couldn't raise Kit's suspicions kept me functioning. Then I bolted, dragging Coop with me and barring the door.

As my Mac booted up, I pulled the wolfdog onto my lap with difficulty. Clamping my arms around him, I buried my face in his fur. Coop didn't seem to mind the cram, settling his head and front paws on the arm of my desk chair. Maybe he sensed my inner tempest, or sniffed it.

I was far more shaken up over Violet's… confession… than I cared to admit to anyone. Myself included.

It needed to be shared with the other Virals, so it was handy I had already called that meeting for ten minutes' time. It gave me a sliver of headspace.

When I clicked over to our video conference, only Shelton was on, so I played with Cooper while first Hi, then Ben, popped up.

"Hey guys. Thanks for joining." I smiled, already feeling sick from the news I had to break. After Violet's issue, though. "I have two – "

"Holy crap." Hi looked up from his Nutella for the first time and almost dropped the jar. "Tor, you look terrible."

"So do you. Never seen wet hair before?"

"Sure have, but I've also seen pictures of Plague victims, and you also look like one of them."

"Thanks, Jake Gyllenhaal, call me when you win your Hottest Male award." I was fully playing defence now. Ironically.

"You are looking pretty ill, Tory," Shelton said, peering at the screen with a worried crease between his eyes. Ben, at least, wasn't giving me a doctorly look of diagnosis, but that didn't stem my irritation.

"So what if I'm not looking sunshine and daisies? If that's how I'm looking now, prepare to look ten times worse yourself in five minutes' time," I snapped. "I have two things I need to say, that you need to hear. Feel free to arse around after that."

I checked each segment; the boys seemed suitably taken aback for me to relate the problems without stupid jokes peppered in. Not that I was a good person for forcing them into this. _Way to isolate yourself from the pack when you need them most, Brennan._

I took a deep breath, ducking to tuck Coop's back under my chin. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bitch at you. But, um, firstly I was at soccer practice today and one of the other defenders – Violet Stanley, her father's a Reverend somewhere – she wouldn't so much as receive a pass from me.

"Ella called her out on it, and she eventually told us that her Daddy's told her to avoid any contact with – with me."

"What? Why?" Ben's first words today sounded scathing. I wondered if he'd feel the same way once we finished the VidCon.

Unlikely. It would change everything.

"Because Madison's been telling everyone at her Church that I'm possessed," I said heavily.

"_What?_"

"Dayum."

"Why?"

I dropped my gaze from the screen, where the boys' incredulous faces sat, to Cooper's grey fur. Ran my hands through it, prompting him to rub his body upwards. "I think we can guess why she thinks that."

"I meant, why now?" Hi pointed a finger-gun at me. "She saw your eyes last July. You went psychic on her like six months ago. What's new?"

"Her church? Nah, wait. Her counsellor. She's not been in therapy that long."

"She's in _therapy?_" Ben's shock prompted me to look his way. I wanted to bury my face in my hands. But that wouldn't do.

I just nodded jerkily instead. "I feel like pond scum about it."

"First Chance, then Madison. Our body count is too high." Hi shook his head, setting the Nutella aside.

"Is there anyone else who's seen some of our powers but we haven't yet turned crazy?" Shelton asked, anxiety tingeing his tone.

Ben screwed up his face. Which prompted the answer from my brain.

"Oh – oh no, no, we are are not turning Jason into a _third _Tory-hating mental patient. Third time lucky says we succeed this time. How hard is it to keep acquaintances sane? At least Chance and Maddy hated me already. Jason's a … buddy."

"Buddy. Right." I ignored Ben and his unimpressed tone. "Doesn't matter anyway if Madison spreads this crap. Everyone will know."

"They won't have evidence," Shelton pointed out.

"Good stories never came from _evidence,_" Hi scoffed.

"So as long as our flares stay under control, I'm safe?" I knotted my fingers in Cooper's fur. "Well that's clearly not a problem, because my flares are obviously under control. Didn't that list I sent you demonstrate just how in control I am?"

I sucked in a shuddering breath, too close to losing emotional control. Closed my eyes as my friends chipped in support.

"We'll figure it out, Tory."

"We always do."

"It's what Virals do."

There it was. That word that no longer just meant Pack strength.

I couldn't stay silent. "That is what Virals do. But it's what our pack isn't doing. I mean – we're no longer getting anywhere." Glancing up at their expressions, I noted confusion to narrow-eyed suspicion; pushed on regardless. "Guys, I – I need to find out what's going wrong, because with all this? I'm scared. And I don't want to stay like this."

Hi's mild confusion dropped into and expression of open-mouthed horror as he realised. _One down. _I pushed on.

"I want to know what's gone wrong. So I've –" swallow "– texted Chance. Candela can have me."

"Tory, no!" Shelton.

"No – we said – no – " Hi.

"_What?_" Ben hit his table so hard the camera shook. Bit out every word forcefully. "We said. We said no testing until Claybourne has our trust."

"I'm not saying we all have to do it. You can do whatever you want. But I have to at least tell you." I gripped Coop's fur tighter.

"Tory. Please. Don't – just…" Hi shook his head, as if trying to remove the realisation from his head. "You can't."

"I can. I have to."

"But why have you volunteered – and early too – to be a lab rat?" Shelton was aghast.

"Because I'm so freaking terrified that my mind's about to untether from my body at any moment. Because our flares can come and go without warning. Because I'm hearing people's actual thoughts in my mind – which I _don't _think dogs can do either, which makes me doubly mental. Pick any one of those." My voice was shaking. I clamped my arms full around Cooper and buried my face in his fur; the boys kept on talking.

"We can sort that alone," Shelton tried. "It's not that weird."

"I bet dogs can mind-read. Psychic mutts. Just another normal Veterinary Practice 101." Hi didn't sound like he was convincing himself with that terrible attempt at light-hearted.

"I'm doing it," I mumbled. We weren't getting anywhere with delusions.

"Tory." Ben sounded neutral. "Tory. _Victoria Grace._" That made me look up, sceptical of Ben's reaction if he'd used the full name. "I'm coming with you."

I gaped, not prepared for this. As the words sank in, my body had the least expected reaction of all.

Relaxing. Eyes dampening embarrassingly. Ben was coming with me?

Even after all we'd said – his reasonable terms – we were going to enter Chance's laboratory together.

And there wasn't even anything really wrong with Ben. It was all for me.

I smiled gratefully, putting all the emotional overload into that one expression. "Thank you."

My eyes stayed on his quarter of the screen. Ben offered me a smile up to one side, the underlying nervousness in both of us needing no further words.

The moment broke when Shelton let out a loud groan and leaned over the back of his garage chair to wing his phone at the floor beanbag. It landed on target, just. "Don't do it, Hiram!"

Hi – evidently texting Shelton – held up his own phone in surrender. "I'm not telling you to."

"Damn you." Shelton put his head on the keyboard. "Once Tory goes, Ben goes, you go, and I go. The pack stays together." He thumped his head once. "I thought we weren't going to volunteer for this until we found the stupid mutts?"

"I can't wait any longer," I said quietly. "There's too much at stake. Too much danger. You don't have to come – anyone. This is different from our normal – well, usual – adventures."

"No. It's just the same." Shelton sat back, face slightly squished and bouncing side to side. "In danger again. Lives threatened. Unsolved mysteries. It's so Viral I never should have put my money against it. Damn you, Stolowitski."

Hi snickered. "We've been on the waiting list from day one, dude. Never bet against Tory. Can't believe you don't remember that after all this time."

Shelton sighed, rolled his eyes. "Alrighty. Imma go count out my savings. Keep me updated." His square winked into darkness, and Hi rubbed his hands together, wearing his 'miserly villain' expression.

"I gotta go collect Shelton's debt. See you in a few. Not," he added, half-off the chair but pointing the Nutella jar at the camera, "that this stops us being both pissed off and nervous as hell about what you've done, Tor, but we'll be over it by tomorrow lunchtime. Laters."

Hi's segment blinked off too, and my screen transitioned to split Ben and I a half each. Blown up to half-Mac size, I could appreciate anew the boys' worry about me. I really did look like a zombie. It was a wonder nobody had tried to quote _The Walking Dead _at me.

"Ben?" The word came out weaker than I'd wanted to sound. But I had nothing more to offer.

He gave me a small, gentle smile. "It's – it'll be okay, Tory."

"But – how? How is this going to be okay in any way?" I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. "I'm sorry. I asked for it. And you're just trying to help me feel better. You don't have to come to watch me face the consequences of my own stupid, _stupid _decisions. Or stupid consequences of okay decisions that I should have seen coming back round to bite me."

This was the product of my body's reaction over the last year, _my _reaction over that time. I felt like the substrate me had been catalysed into a different product in the catalyst of time and virus.

I sucked a deep, shaking breath. Tried not to lose it.

I was close to the edge here.

"You did what you had to, to protect us. Don't regret that." Ben leaned forward and smiled properly at me. A full-face, teeth-flashing, eye-crinkling smile that warmed me for a moment. "And of course I'm not leaving you. Wouldn't consider it, ever. Not for a second – not even when I'm angry and say stupid stuff. I've always got your back."

"Thanks, Ben." I said it slowly so the words would mean more as I smiled through watery vision. There was nothing more I had to say than those words.

"Are we needing me to chauffeur at some point, then?"

"Is tomorrow too early?" I grimaced, palming my eyes, glad of the return to the short return to light-hearted topics. "Chance's suggestion."

"No. Better not to give you more time. We know what you're like with overthinking, so now we're doing the best thing… better to get started now. I mean," Ben grasped for the words, "all the stuff you've got going wrong? It's scary. Too big for us."

I swallowed. "Thanks for understanding." Coop stood up on my lap, or tried to, so I unwound my arms and let him wander around my room. I watched him for a second before turning back to the screen. "God. This sounds stupid, but I really miss you being here. Like, opposite Kit's place."

"I've got weekends," Ben offered, "but I know. Feels like – like half my life is missing. Replaced by…"

"We're still here," I promised. "We'll just have to make every second count for more than it already did."

Ben nodded, shifting his arms to fidget in his lap.

If I was there, I'd have taken an arm and pulled it away, tucking myself under instead. But we were separated by an hour's road of Lowcountry, and neither of us were touchy-feely people, and all we ever did was circle in arguments so we could never work at a relationship while the pack stood.

But I needed him, and I wanted more.

Before I could think twice about the rubbish cliché, I said quietly, "I wish I was with you now. Beside you."

The words almost made me cringe, but Ben only flushed slightly. "Tomorrow. We'll be back… together… tomorrow."

I blinked away the tired-tears, jumping as the connecting music filled my speakers. Hi, coming back the chat.

I couldn't face him now. I hit the disconnect button, grabbing my phone and shooting Ben a text before he freaked.

**Sorry for quitting. Couldn't deal with Hi/anyone else.**

A reply pinged almost instantly. **It's all good. I did the same.**

That almost made me laugh. I went to grab Coop just as a knock came.

"Tory?" Kit.

I went to the door, unlocking before throwing my arms around him. Squeezed hard. It took my dad only a second to hug me back.

"Hey, cub. You okay? I thought I could hear you getting a bit…" He trailed off, unsure. I looked up at him.

"It's just some of this school stuff. It's pretty overwhelming. I might go with the boys to Ella's for a revision session tomorrow to sort it. But thanks, Dad."

"S'okay. You definitely alright?" He peered closely at my face. "You've never been that worried about school."

"Some of the girls have been saying nasty things too," I admitted. The rumour might get back to him anyhow. "About me. But I'm over it now. I've got Ella."

"Tom said you'd sorted it out with Ben, too."

"Yeah. All four of us are… good, again."

"Well, good."

I smiled and released Kit. "Thanks for checking."

"No problem. It's in my job description, right?"

"Probably. Somewhere." I turned away, back into my room.

"Wait, Tor. Make sure you're back from your study session in time to cook with Whit, okay?"

"Sure thing." _Grr. _

I had mended my fences on multiple accounts now. The weight off my shoulders was a giant relief. But now to get through tomorrow.

* * *

**A/N: Welcome to Part Two! I promise I won't bring out ~~all the dialogue~~ for all chapters. That was pretty heavy. I started forgetting the speech marks, ha. The first draft of this also my first writing for JulNoWriMo 2014 (which at the time of posting I am majorly stuck on). I'm going on holiday for a couple of weeks now - with wifi so I should be able to update as per my usual schedule - but the packing and school holiday work has been insane, so I'm really sorry about the delay getting this chapter up :( **

**What are your feelings on single-scene chapters? I'm just interested as to how they work compared to multiple-scene chapters :) Next time: Susan, Azad and adverse effects.**


	13. 2 - 2

**11.**

As the instructions told us, we walked down the block. Around a corner. Crossed the street. I kept whipping my head around to check for Madison – or Jason – or anyone who might recognised the target car as Chance's BMW. He had insisted, after my confirmation text last night, on taking us personally to his little Brimstone lab, "to show Benjamin the polite route for next time".

I hadn't passed that particular sentiment on to the boys. Better to not bring the battle to them.

Now we were close, I could make out shapes through the tinted glass. Ben was stiffly sat shotgun. I relaxed a little, grateful to be spared that particular trial for today. Shelton raised a hand towards the window I guessed Chance was looking out of. The desire to run screaming for the hills was almost overpowering, but broke when Hi swept the passenger door open and I was forced to jump aside.

Shelton jogged to the left. Ever the gentleman, Hi gestured for me to enter the dark car first. I peered in: smaller than expected; leather-clad, of course; an impatient Claybourne chauffeur tapping his fingers on the wheel.

"I can't, you go first," I hissed over my shoulder. Hi snorted.

"My body is not built for the narrow plinth that is the middle seat. Unless you want to be suffocated."

"Well I'm wearing a skirt, and I'm not flashing my underwear for Chance and all the oncoming traffic of Charleston! Scram."

"Fine, fine." We piled in. As Hiram predicted, even buckling up was difficult. And I immediately regretted breathing in through my nose.

_Note to self: when breathing in Hi's armpit, use your mouth only._

The ride was suitably awkward, peppered only by small talk and heavy anticipation. Hi and Shelton didn't even attempt their usual banter, which made the silences seem to stretch even further. But I couldn't concentrate on the route, totally focused inward until with a jolt, I realised Chance was flashing his ID at the gate guards and swinging us into Candela's central drive.

Candela Pharmaceuticals. The cluster of imposing factory-like buildings was even more imposing from this angle, where they seemed to close in above. Sort of like a larger-scale, more menacing version of LIRI. If LIRI abused animals, not rehabilitated them.

We were slowly driven past clumps of pharmacologists, cacti features and occasional benches. Past the main buildings, up a slope, Chance parked in a small lot by the back entrance we were already acquainted with. Wordlessly, everyone piled out.

The tension was thick enough to slice.

Chance locked the car over his shoulder, turning away to walk and talk. "I don't expect this 'project' to be a walk in the park for any of us, but I do promise I'm not a monster. Anything you're not pleased with, say. We can change it. You can leave whenever, because you are here voluntarily, though I'm sure Susan and Azad would prefer you to stay. We are a team now," he commented over his shoulder, punching in a long code to the heavy-duty deep-set door. "All of us are a team. And you know what keeps teams running?"

"Mutual threat of destruction?" Hi suggested.

"Mutual _trust._ If –"

"So what's the code for the outside door, then? Going to trust us with that?" Ben challenged. Chance raised an eyebrow as we filed into the narrow, pristinely white corridor. Shelton almost elbowed me in the face as he tugged madly on the stress-earlobe.

"If you play nicely today, of course you may. Now…"

Down. Along the right. Fifth door on the left. The laboratory route was imprinted in my brain immediately. It wouldn't do to get lost in this maze.

My pack hovered in the doorway, staring around the bright room. Four benches were wiped shiny clean, stools neatly pushed under, walls achingly blank. What had happened in this roomy lab before? It wouldn't be unused, surely, so what discoveries or trials had it seen?

Chance ushered us in then disappeared to find the two Brimstone scientists who knew the full truth. He had to have more goons working under him, but I had the feeling Chance was playing his cards close, clutching control through separation of powers. This was an eighth-generation tyrant-businessman, after all.

"Nice security," Shelton whispered to us. Ben and I followed his pointed finger to the mounted cameras in all the corners of the room. "Probably got mics and all."

"They will now, anyway. No more dog thievery mistakes here. Hiram!" He didn't even look up, too busy rooting through the workstation equipment cupboards with an air of chemistry-induced mania. I bent down and tried to shut the door on him, but he merely batted me away and tapped the nearest clamp stand excitedly.

"You know what this equipment set makes for?"

"No?"

"A _Langendorff _Experiment. Whew. What I wouldn't do to conduct one…" Hi whistled, moved to shuffling through conical flasks on the shelf below. My interest was piqued, however.

"Langendorffs? No way. What size heart? I assume that's what we're working with." I gestured at the neatly-arranged equipment tray. Hi peered, shaking his head.

"Can't tell. Rodent, probably."

"Aren't you against using rodent hearts for whatever that experiment is?" Shelton's reproachful tone prompted me to stand again.

"If it's not actual animal cruelty, I have a hard time deciding what the name of science justifies," I admitted. "I'll have to get back to you."

"… no news yet." Chance pushed open the lab door, followed by a thirtysomething Middle Eastern man and older blonde woman.

_Our scientists. _Here to experiment on us. The Virals, scientific subjects. With subject codes and notes and results and trials and…

I sucked in a breath, eyes flicking from one to the other. Azad gave us a professional smile, lighting on each of us separately and rubbing his hands together. He seemed to be emanating energy, close-cropped hair almost bristling. His flitting gaze seemed to be dissecting us already; an uncomfortable feeling I tried to divert by shifting my focus to Susan.

The moment I locked eyes with her, a coldness washed over me. The older woman – probably around my Aunt Tempe's age – wasn't examining the rest of my pack but remained on me, and only me, not even flinching at my contest. In contrast to her partner, her only movements were robotically measured, so I immediately pinned her as hypersensitive of every move made. The thin wire glasses on her nose glinted sharply. I looked away.

"So, everyone," Chance clapped his hands together, toeing the lab door closed, "Azad Negahban and Susan Booker, meet Victoria Brennan, Hiram Stolowitski, Shelton Devers and Benjamin Blue. You lot, Susan and Azad."

I stepped forward, shaking both adults' hands. Tried to smile and hope my hands weren't as clammy as theirs.

"It's Tory," I told them, over Chance's reminder of who did what (Susan more DNA; Azad more behaviourist; lots of overlaps).

"So you're the original Virals, huh?" Azad grinned. He seemed way too comfortable with the situation. But then, he hadn't experienced quite the tumultuous Virals initiation we had, at least knowing what was going on.

If Susan had, would she still be as hard-faced now?

"That would be my wolfdog." I swallowed, let my gaze drop to my laces before dragging it back up. No playing coy. Chance had said we were a team; if I wanted to be helped, I needed to give as much info as possible. "Cooper. Chance didn't grab him today, but our powers usually work fine without him now, anyway."

"Now?" Susan asked, tone mild.

I was suddenly glad of the bench separating scientists from pack. "We've found that for most of our time as Virals, Coop acts as an amplifier of sorts for our abilities," I explained haltingly. Azad pulled a notebook from his checked-shirt pocket and began scribbling notes.

"And what sort of powers are those?" Susan continued.

"For the ones independent of my dog, our individual powers, it's sensory increase and a lot more energy. But for our pack stuff – like, forcing others to flare, speaking to their minds, seeing through their eyes –"

"Reading our minds," Hi muttered.

"– Coop helps a lot." I took a deep breath. _Relax. Tell them._ "But… in the last month or so, we've been snupping out of our flares randomly."

"Or snapping in," Shelton added, clearing his throat before adding, "or just not getting in in the first place."

Hi coughed. The courage cough. "Tory's been getting most of the problems, though. Us three have just had those three problems. She's been getting these… 'voice knockouts', I think you call them?" I nodded at him. "With people's thoughts shouting and dropping to the floor. And these creepy disconnections of mind from body. Which might help her mind-read but we have to injure her to get her back."

The dam had officially burst on our spill of information, of previously closely-guarded secrets. I carried on the listing. "And ever since I got that weird awareness of Chance, I've started getting it in other places too. Er… I think that's all."

"That's all?" Chance stared at me. "No wonder you gave in and came to us. I'm sure Benjamin wasn't best pleased."

"Ben was the first to volunteer to come here with me," I fired back.

"Okay, great great, thanks for that," Azad leapt in. "Now about your 'pack' – is there the typical wolfpack structure to you? Like an alpha, alpha pair, beta, omega situation?"

"What's what again? All that Latin muddles me." Hi's confused lines wrinkled his forehead.

"Greek. Alphas are the leaders, often head of the family, since packs are often just a family hierarchy. They're shown by displays of dominance, often a mated pair. Betas below them hunt. Omegas are the lowest, absorbing the aggression to keep an equilibrium, doing the menial tasks and getting least reward. I don't know how they might play out on a human level, though. It's completely unstudied, for the moment." Azad grinned widely at us, displaying a wide row of white teeth.

"No mated pairs," I said hastily, "just me, I think." I glanced sideways at the boys. "And no omegas. If anyone is bottom, it's Chance."

Ben snorted. "Sounds about right."

"Nice, great. So can we grab some DNA samples off you lot to start with and we'll see where we can go from there?"

Half an hour on, there were samples of our hair, nails, blood and urine for Susan and Azad's neatly-labelled test tubes. They also had all our fingerprints, retina scans, and skin cell samples. I was beginning to feel like we were up for cloning, or a jigsaw of bodily clues for discarding on crime scenes.

No panic was setting in yet, though, despite the truly odd situation. Maybe because I had imagined this too many times. Maybe it was so surreal my panic sensors were only registering a dreamlike state.

Maybe I was just glad to share the weight of our secret with someone after so long, even if that someone was giving me cold stares and taking away my feeling of control.

The others weren't doing too badly either. Ben was remaining stiffly emotionless about every procedure, although I did catch him almost bite through his lip when blood was being taken. Shelton yanked madly on his ear but I had expected mad shaking. Hi was dealing by getting way into the evidence collection, examining the DNA collection jars and baggies, firing Azad as many questions as he could (delightedly) answer.

Chance sat at the back, watching over us all like a Zeus wannabe. The narrow-eyed focus betrayed his keen interest, whatever he pretended by the nonchalant phone-checking. As I carried my yet-empty urea sample by, I told him, "I need to be home by six at the latest, Mr Chauffeur." I received only a hand wave in acknowledgement.

Whatever. I could rip IV lines out if I wasn't getting home. It wasn't even that I wanted to get back particularly, since all I had to look forward to was cooking with Whitney. I just knew that I couldn't violate this line in the sand, that one which Chance often walked, for any of our sakes. Having to stay for longer and then face Whitney moaning about how late we were starting cooking would have me create a hell nobody wanted to see.

As Susan finished up potting Shelton's blood sample and he held the compress to his tricep, Azad drew us in, close enough in that I could read his tiny name badge. AZAD NEGAHBAN. No title, position, photo except the Candela logo.

Always paranoid.

"Awesome, cool. So we've got a whole load of info from you and now we'd like to possibly get you to – flare? – right, flare, and compare them again. This could be super important for comparing hormone concentration, changes in the bloodstream, potentially checking your amino acid sequencing in vital proteins, DNA base sequences… we want to do a lot of this comparative biomolecular trialling because I know this can't be fun for you guys so we want to work together to make this as easy as situation as possible for everyone. Okay?" Azad's quick words belied his nervous eye-locking with each of us in turn. I nodded.

"Wait," Ben spoke up from behind me, "didn't you think our flare pain might come from proximity to Chance?"

"Could it be all the pack, though – Azad too?" I added, frowning. Good job one of us was thinking straight. "And it's not just step-outside-please distance. Like, Chance-is-in-the-same-block distance."

"Really?" That only seemed to capture Azad's curiosity further. Susan looked up from her labelling, frowning under her specs. "Huh. Well we'll investigate that later, but for now we'll see how much pain you guys are in. It'd be best if we could grab the samples real quick while you're stuck in that limbo."

I glanced at my pack in our loose semicircle. Nobody looked thrilled. But we had known we'd be undergoing tests, some of them horrible, forced, painful. And this was just the start. If we didn't make the step up now, we'd never get off the ground.

It didn't feel right to flare deliberately in front of strangers. Anxiety pinched at my nerves enough that the flare was pulling at my subconscious anyway.

I didn't answer but closed my eyes. Sank into that vibrating fibre of fear, allowing it to flood my body to unlock the wolf.

Ben had been right. The flare was strong – way too strong. If we were in public, on the tail of a mystery, I'd have ordered an immediate power down.

Now, it was all I could do to grit my teeth hard and not vomit.

Shelton was on the floor. Hi ran for a sink. Ben was bent double, a low whine escaping his pulled-back lips. I looked up, only to lock onto Susan.

She seemed to take it as a non-verbal cue, unflinchingly sweeping up a prepared needle, rounding the bench, seizing my arm, and stabbing the needle into my tricep. As she sliced my hypersensitive nerves, pain sparked through me in waves.

Susan pulled away. I watched her, senses chaotically bombarded by too much clashing information. The needle was placed down, replaced with another, and she whipped over to Shelton.

Chance was yelling from the back of the room for us to snap out of it. His voice echoed like cannons in my ears. Through tearing eyes, clutching the bench, I looked the question at Susan.

She kept a poker face. "We really need that urine sample for examination. That may hold the key for your endocrine functioning."

I didn't want to do this. I really, really didn't want to endure the tearing pain for a second longer than I had to. But peeing in another pot _was_ something I had to do if we were going to compare bodily fluids for figuring out what I was. There was no choice about whether I wanted to do it or not.

I nearly headbutted the bench, wrenching the cupboard open to scrabble for a flask. I stumbled to the adjoining bathroom, trying my hardest to clamp my shaking body in place. Thinking was just so hard underneath the scar tissue of pain.

Put the flask aside with trembling fingers. Washed my hands. The sensory bombardment was worsening, noise growing louder in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, praying, but the noise separated into muffled voices.

I didn't try to pick up the sample but fired out of the door. We needed a pack power-down ASAP. And my pack...

The colours in front of me abruptly swam, bled and swirled to a psychedelic mush as two of us let the flares go. I couldn't. My mind was preparing to loosen.

All this in a second. My body kept on moving even as my sensory input cut, and I felt myself trip, fall towards the floor. Someone caught me – _foreign touch man_, my brain supplied from somewhere. But then _flare pack man_ was digging his fingers into my shoulders and shouting, closer and closer to my face so I had to listen.

"Tory, snap out of it. Come back, Tory!"

I followed the pull. Fell back into my own body - and literally fell backwards, only Ben's clutch on my shoulders keeping me from hitting the decks.

For several seconds, my muscles clenched harder and harder.

Then, release.

The flare sucked from me like a ball of hot air before explosions. I staggered, and Ben dropped his grip to bend over. I followed, almost going head-over-heels but catching myself on my knees. Ben had always had trouble gaining his flares; now he was having trouble regaining himself.

He had to let it go. I grabbed his lower arm and squeezed, a physical reminder of me. Better than a slap for a first try.

A slow minute later, he stood up straight. I carefully blew out and brought myself onto a stool. Managed a smile.

"Thanks for stopping my thing," I managed.

"No worries. Thanks for the help there." Ben seemed a little shell-shocked but rubbed the back of his neck.

"You know," Chance's voice rose from behind us, "if you ever change your mind about being lab kids, I'm sure the drama schools would love you all. Maybe as a package deal. That was the most dramatic scene since the _Homeland _season finale."

* * *

**A/N: OKAY WOW INTENSE. Hope you enjoyed that long chapter – but are Tory's problems getting irritating? Worrying? This scene was about four times more dramatic a couple of drafts ago and damn I annoyed myself, haha. **

**Also, as a disclaimer, I am a Year 13 (= 12****th**** Grade) student and I'm getting top scores for my Biology A-level, but that does not make me a PhD wolf-human scientist – or any other largely knowledgeable scientist. This and any other scientific info here is either a product of my own studies or of research, so while it should be correct, I am not 100% right the way Kathy and Brendan make sure to be!**


	14. 2 - 3

**12.**

The last thing I wanted to do was return to Candela "in a few days". This was largely down to not wanting to see Chance ever again after that humiliating reduction to semi-human-semi-wolf Tory.

However, I also didn't want to be stood on the dock tugging fingers through my knotty hair at 7am either.

"Wednesday, Friendsday, cheer up Tor!" Hi tried to grab my arm as he sauntered up behind me. I snatched it off him immediately.

"It'll be de-bag day if you keep on grabbing people's war wounds like that."

"I take it your cooking lesson went well then?" Shelton ambled up to us with a wave. I raised a hand back half-heartedly.

"Fabulously, of course. The burn is from my amazing third attempt at a Roux." My finishing skill wasn't, apparently, allowed to be simple cooking – like a spag bol – or even my preferred (and only) methods: microwave muffins or oven pizza. Because in Whitney's world, my opinions didn't even register on her happy-bimbo radar.

Hi sniggered. "No plans to be the next Raymond Blank, then?"

"It's Raymond _Blanc, _genius. And why can't I just, I dunno, learn to foxtrot or play soccer or shoot or something. I can do movement. And science," I tacked on the end.

"Baking _is _a science. I'm almost a Professor in KFC." Hi straightened his tie snootily.

"Get Hi to teach you freestyle rapping. He's a master."

"I don't think masters try to rap _Finnish _with _language, _Shelton."

"Don't be jel 'cause I've got my Finishing skill perfected," Hi said primly, dropping the Windsor Knot he was playing with. "I'm still searching for appreciaters of such true art. If you know of other Mag Leaguers wanting a skill, send them to me. Especially if, you know, they're beautiful and tall with olive skin and long braided hair."

"Yeah, your art is so 'true' nobody else can recognise it." Shelton rolled his eyes and hustled on board _Hugo _as Tom began unmooring. I just shook my head, following them on board and watching the edge of the boat so I didn't slip in. I didn't trust my instincts these days as well as I used to.

Almost to prove the point, I ended up nearly falling back into the dock when Shelton halted right where he was. "Oi!" I rubbed my nose reproachfully.

"Sorry. Hi, did you just describe Ella?"

I leaned out to face Hi, an eyebrow raised, as he whipped around, cheeks already reddening.

"Ella? Who? I mean – no, I know who she is, and no, I – never –"

"Pathetic. Worst cover-up ever. I thought you were meant to be the one who's good at lying?" Shelton resumed embarking with head-shakes and I followed.

"But seriously Hi, you've got such tough game around her – such confidence and collection and coolness – it'll be a miracle if she's not begging you to marry her," I teased.

He huffed, plonking down on the bench in irritation. "All this cruel mocking will cost me thousands of dollars in therapy in years to come. A hundred shrinks, I can see them all now, parading before me."

"You do have one thing going for you," I told Hi cheerily, ignoring his ramble and bolstered by thinking about other people's problems. "You can actually speak in front of her. Yes, the words are complete rubbish, but they're still one up from Shelton's complete silence."

Hi whooped and raised the roof. Shelton protested it was his game: be more appealing by being somebody who wasn't as obnoxious as Hi. We joked about for the rest of the way to school, an excellent spirit-raiser after yesterday's evening.

The long and short of it was that Hi wanted to spend more time with my beautiful friend. His time distracting her in Karl Gruber's garden couldn't have gone as terribly as that weird lunch if he was so hung up on talking to her again.

I was more than happy for them to hang out if nobody was uncomfortable about the situation. The only problem was, I suspected – okay, I_ knew_ – Ella didn't see Hi as anything but a little boy. Maybe a friend. Not whatever adoration Hi heaped on her. And I didn't want to not help him should he ask for it… but I didn't want to put Ella in an awkward situation either. It would all end in disaster that way, a sure friendship-breaker.

I just had to pray Hi wouldn't ask for help in a specific plan. I would give him what I could, and after that?

I ignored the _after that _bit, since it might never come and I could then happily live out my schooldays bouncing between Ella and the Pack like nobody ever had feelings for their friends. Like nobody ever had feelings that could split up closer-than-family groups because they were realised, or because they weren't, or because they were and then it ended in disaster. Just like every other relationship I had formed in my life.

_Doesn't mean you stop trying, though. Stay stubborn._

If only I knew what I wanted to be stubborn about and stand by, though.

* * *

"So three of the four factors affecting the rate of reaction are enzyme concentration, substrate concentration, and temperature. What else?"

"The amount of substrate?"

"Substrate _volume, _Mr. O'Hare. And no. Anyone else?"

"pH value?"

"_Yes._ The active site will be affected by the –"

_Bzz bzz. _

I couldn't resist slipping out my phone beneath the bench and checking. Enzyme reactions were snooze-worthy and I could have passed the exam we were revising for in my sleep. Ella was clearly bored too in Government & Politics.

**Fabulous fair in town 2nite. You game? XOXO**

I weighed up the pros and cons. I wanted to go, if I could get a ride. But Tom wouldn't be back in Charleston when LIRI had its busy Wednesday night late session. Kit would be there to lead the turtle sleep behaviours investigations. Whitney had flower-arranging club, or quilting club, or something as dumb and uninteresting as I could think of. Not that I particularly wanted a ride from her anyways.

That left… Ben. And if Ben was driving me around, he should come. He was my friend, I wanted him to come. And that left Shelton and Hi coming too, because we stuck together. Since this morning's revelation, I reckoned Hi would be even more eager about coming. What a good friend I was.

_As if. _That particular title was flushed down the toilet with the Candela contract.

**Sounds fab! But would u mind if I brought the gang? They're my only ride… sorry xoxo**

I bit my lip. That sounded so bad. I'd already forced the boys on Ella last Friday, now I was doing it again?

The reply came after a moment. **The more the merrier! Just plz don't get separated from me again? XOXO**

**Yay, sounds gr8! Str8 there? Xoxo**

**Starts at 5, let's meet 6. Need 2 change anyway. XOXO**

**Awesome, c ya there xoxo**

I looked up, grinning around at the class. A fair with Ella sounded fun, although she didn't sound keen to be stranded with Hi again. Couldn't have everything.

I fired a text to the boys then brought my attention back to the class. Accidentally caught Jason's eye as I swept my eyes to the front. I smiled widely, and he returned with a dazzling smile before turning quickly towards the front again, not even trying to communicate. What was that about?

I shook my head and concentrated on the lecture slides.

I didn't get the chance to focus for more than thirty seconds; the tannoy sounded, school secretary clearing her throat through the crackly echoes.

"Victoria Brennan to the Headmaster's office now please, Victoria Brennan to the Headmaster's office."

Everyone in the room turned to fix me with a stare. With a nod from the teacher and head-jerk towards the door, I gathered my books and pens. Poured them into my bag. Met Shelton and Hi's eyes for a second each as I sped for the door, but avoided checking Jason's. Whispers broke out, rising in volume as I shut the door behind me.

I had just as many questions as my classmates. What – why – when – who – how? I concentrated on reaching Headmaster Paugh's office in as little time as possible. Declan Paugh was not well-known for his tolerance of time-wasters.

One hall, two, crossing the high ivy-decked courtyard, set of steps, another hall, rapping on Paugh's heavy wooden door as assertively as possible. Then I stepped back and waited.

Two minutes thirty-eight seconds later, the door creaked open and a man stepped out. Middle-aged, badly receding hairline, and… dog collar? _Churchman, genius. _My eyes travelled up to his face and made the connection. He was the spit of Violet Stanley.

This must be the rumour-spreading father.

I narrowed my eyes and opened my mouth to speak to him. Before I could, Reverend Stanley had moved away, eyes now fixed on the corridor ahead, and Headmaster Paugh called me in.

I stepped inside hesitantly, bowing my head in deference to Paugh. Didn't want to get on his bad (worse?) side. The Bald Eagle himself was hunched up, sporting a pressed shirt of vibrant purple and tweed blazer, but even this outfit was less eye-aching than the thunderous expression he wore. He didn't offer to let me sit in either of the large leather chairs, but pointed for me to stand in front of his massive desk.

There was one other person in the room, and I examined her curiously. Long, tangled, blonde hair; pale to brown organic-looking clothing; stubby leather hippie sandals: she was not the style of young adult I would have assumed our dear headmaster had time for. I would have expected her to be turned out on the street before he was so much as seen with her. And really, the better question was, who then was she that he let her in here?

"Miss Brennan." I immediately switched my gaze to fix on Paugh as he rubbed his hands together twitchily. "We need to have a little chat about some of your recent behaviour that has come to light."

"Behaviour, sir?" If I had been caught for all the skiving, why was this woman in the office too? Or was she just a government reviewer not actually for me?

Of course, answering either my spoken or unspoken questions would have been too simple for Paugh. "Miss Brennan, this is Miss Greenberg. Miss Greenberg, Miss Brennan."

"Pleasure." She stuck out her hand but didn't move from the seat, carefully watching me as I walked to her and shook her hand. Neither of us smiled.

"Miss Greenberg is an independent therapist who has been receiving several of our students as regular clients as of late. While she is in a position of confidentiality, Miss Greenberg may divulge information of a dangerous nature. Lately, sensitive information has come to light concerning yourself." Headmaster Paugh slid half-moon glasses onto his nose, keeping me pinned to the wall the whole time. My stomach rolled at the direction this was taking.

"This student wishes to remain anonymous, as it was Miss Greenberg's idea to have this little _chat,_ but I think you're cleverer than that. How many students do _you _think you've scared to therapy with this possessed demon nonsense?"

I blanched. "Sir, I never –"

"Quiet!" he barked. "Miss Greenberg has requested an 'open session' with you. I have a vested interest in its outcome. You will listen to her. Now, Miss Greenberg, over to you."

"Thanks, Mr Paugh." I turned to the lounging counsellor, who was watching me and twirling hair with the slow ease of a cat on a wall. "Call me Crystal. And Tory – is it okay if I call you that? – I don't want to upset you or anything. I just want to hear your side of the story, what you think is going on. Maybe we can work together to help restore a little… sanity, and sanitation, to the situation."

"Whatever Madison's said about me, I really don't know why. I haven't done anything to her except call her out on her bullying – which _she _chose to stage in public – and say 'boo' to her in the toilets after." I struggled to keep my voice from wavering into frustration. "I don't know why she'd think _this_."

Crystal didn't seem at all fazed by my denial. "So do you know Madison's full story about this?"

_Yes. _"I've heard rumours of what she thinks about me, but I don't know what could make her think this, so I don't really know what she believes."

"Well we're just trying to get to the bottom of a mutual bump in the road here. What rumours have you heard about yourself?" Crystal leant forward, leather bracelets sliding her tanned, unexpectedly muscled arms as she propped her chin on a fist.

I didn't want to play this game. I was not a paying client of hers, so she shouldn't be treating me like one. But I was beginning to sense that there wouldn't be an easy way out of this prison. I would have to play along.

"I… I've heard I'm possessed. There's a demon in me, or that I'm a demon, and I'll possess other people to turn away from the Lord. Although I have no idea _why _she's got that idea because what bad things have I done?" I put a hand on my heart, pulled out my upset face. No harm in dramatics.

"Madison says you have eyes that glow like a demon's, and that you can read minds. In the fall you tried to possess her body and throw her own conscience out." Crystal carefully said this without so much as a trace of disdain or disbelief.

Crap. She really believed Madison.

I was in deep water here.

"I'm pretty sure I can't do either of those cool tricks. I'll have to stick with contact lenses, thanks. And reading minds? Why would I even have time for that when I was busy trying to save lives from the Gamemaster in the fall?"

"Respect, Brennan," Paugh snapped. I nodded without looking at him. _Time to bring out the big guns, then._

"Miss Greenberg, I said 'boo' to Madison straight after I had brutally taken her down – verbally – in public. It wasn't our finest moment, for either of us, and she was very upset that her long-time victim had turned on her. I don't appreciate her trying to ruin my credibility now, as a catty revenge.

"For whatever genuine distress I have caused Madison, I am sorry." I tried my hardest to sound sincere and perfect-Christian-girl. "If talking to her will help the healing, I will gladly do anything for her. I have forgiven her for the distress she has caused me over the years, and I would love to help her do the same."

"This is not a question of forgiveness, Tory." _Stop using my nickname. _My mouth tightened as Crystal pouted a little, her expression rather at odds with the clinical language used."It is of a girl's mental health, which _you_ have damaged quite severely. Now that I have seen your side of the story, I will be glad to report your… sentiments to my client. We may need to meet again, so I'm glad you are so glad to assist Madison. She'll be equally as glad, I am sure."

"Oh, I'd be very _glad _to help." I manufactured a smile to flash at Crystal. The word was starting to sound weird.

"So great! I think we're done here." The therapist pushed out of the chair and curtseyed neatly to the headmaster. "Thank you for conducting this meeting, sir. It has been an honour."

"All mine, Miss Greenberg," Paugh said curtly. "You are dismissed too, Miss Brennan. Do try to not possess anyone else in the meantime."

"Thank you, sir," I answered stiffly, following the flowing hair and skirts out of the door, fixing my most furious glare at the Vegan sandals. If looks could set shoes alight and trap their owners' feet inside…

I turned off as soon as I could, heading for the nearest water closet. English had just begun, but Mr Edde would have to suck it up for today: no way was I going straight back to class this shaken up and empty of cover story.

I could tell the truth, but that would prompt further questions, not to mention rumours. And the Tripod were in English. I couldn't face Madison or I might strangle her over Milton. Not that it would be such a loss, but Chance might get a little mad if I killed his girlfriend for spreading semi-true rumours about me. Everyone else would love it. Ashley Bodford might throw me a bloody party.

As I pushed open the bathroom door, I shook my head. Ashley Bodford throwing me a party? Pigs would sooner fly.

* * *

**A/N: Omigosh I'm so sorry about the long wait. Almost a fortnight? I'm really sorry, I **_**will **_**be better now the holiday stuff has calmed down a little. The only excuse I have is that my writer's block has been really bad of late, I've got a massive block in the middle of a sentence for the chapter I'm currently writing, which has kept me very uninspired for "Catalyst". Doesn't help that I haven't been able to figure out how I want to revise my Parts 3 & 4 plan. It's all conspired to keep me from editing this chapter properly, until now.**

**So I hope this wasn't too bitty. I enjoyed the pace change from writing one-scene-per-chapter. But what do you think of Crystal, and Paugh, and Madison?! Is this inevitable for Tory – a deserved karma strike – or unfortunate coincidence?**

**Next time: candyfloss, hook-a-duck, and scratches (and more) in the dark…**


	15. 2 - 4

**13.**

"Whack-a-mole? Does that even exist at fairgrounds?"

"Shut it. It's more fun than your 'romantic hook-a-duck' any day, Stolowitski."

Virals. Ford Explorer. Destination: fairground.

"You're both idiots," Ben pronounced. "The higher the ride, the better. Tallest ride _beats_."

"Ferris wheels are more interesting without safety bars," I mused. "Too slow. And predictable."

"Are girls into spontaneity then? Hook-a-duck is unpredictable." Hi tried to slick his hair back. Ended up just getting his eyebrows squished in a north-easterly direction.

"Hook-a-duck is cute at best," Ben told him semi-disgustedly. "Don't go for the spontaneity angle. The only spontaneity you have is tripping over random non-existent objects."

Shelton and I snickered at his words. Hi pouted. "Better than spontaneously possessing people."

I groaned, turning in my seat to check over my shoulder at Hi. "Are we really going down that road already?" I had updated them all when Ben picked us up on the Paugh/Greenberg/Brennan convo. Needless to say, they'd dealt with it using laughter.

"Yeah. I'm sure there's a few hundred jokes to squeeze out yet," Hi beamed.

"Did Ella happen to mention if the East Bay Playground lot would be taken up by the fair?" Ben asked, frowning a little and braking hard as someone cut right in front of us.

"Probably," Shelton replied, rubbing his chin in thought as we all sat back again. "The Playground isn't that massive, I think they normally spill down the waterfront."

"Damn. Why are there so many places we can't park around South of Broad?"

"You could park either outside Ella's or on her drive," I offered. "She only lives a couple of blocks away, and it's better than getting clamped."

"Sounds good." Ben took the next right. "You'll need to direct me, though, and none of this _I had a great idea I had to think about _stuff this time. That worked out very badly last time."

"We still got great tacos."

"Yeah, after an hour of driving around Folly Beach. Which isn't even five miles long."

"Fine, fine," I conceded, "I'll just check with Ella before going Google Maps on you."

My friend quickly agreed; her parents' cars were already in the garage, so the drive was 'free as the liberated nation of Murica.'

I snorted, replying with my thanks, before having to read out her text to the boys in the back.

Another twenty minutes later, we'd made it to the edge of the East Bay Playground, looking for the flashing pink candyfloss sign Ella ordered us to meet her by. A windy evening, the salty air brought a fresh sea tang to invigorate me as we pushed through swarms of ten-year-olds, families, and older kids. Everyone seemed to be smiling, clutching prizes or fair food or tickets to one ride or another.

There was so much to look at, so much light and movement and colour that I was spinning my head back and forth to drink it all in. Catching sight of yellow handles in the play park brought on a wave of nostalgia I couldn't resist sharing with the boys.

"Hey, do you remember when we saw those handles from the Provost Dungeon? What was it, 'Bonny's Sluice' or something?"

Shelton immediately moaned. "Don't remind me. I really gotta move to a penthouse apartment on a mountaintop one of these days."

"Possibly our most dangerous mission?" Hi mused. "Nah, wait. I forgot about the rest of the pirate-hunting adventures where there were _two _sets of killers on our tails."

"Or any of the Gamemaster stuff," I reminded Hi. "Getting stuck beneath the Citadel topped my personal pile of suck."

"Hannah was a crack shot in Chance's cellar, though," Ben remembered. "And if we'd known Bavaretto was still in the building…"

"Chance shooting on the island with his buddies was the scariest shit we'd ever seen yet, though," Hi chuckled. "We've got plenty of experience since then to make _that _look like a game of patty-cake, but I used to use that for tapping into my fl– "

"BOO!"

I screeched as someone seized me around the waist.

_Ella. _"Ohmygod never do that again, Francis!" I whipped around to face her properly.

"Sorry, Brennan." Ella wore a large grin spelling otherwise, and I hugged her with a smile to match. "You're just too easy to scare. Although apparently not as easy as Chance taking his buddies hunting on your island."

I started. "You heard us?"

"Well, only from the Chance bit. Waiting for an in. Hey everyone! Want to get hotdogs? I've been running drills in the backyard to get my game back up but _man, _soccer leaves me absolutely starving for deep-fried food. Stop me at the sixth corn dog, Tor, I mean it."

"I'll try, but don't get mad if I have to bring in the muscle to help."

"I can't promise anything." Ella linked her arm through mine and we moved deeper in to the crowds. We hit the food stands and had soon gathered four sticks of candyfloss, seven hotdogs, two burgers and three corndogs between the five of us. Once we'd made a decent inroad into the sticky sustenance, it became a competition for who could do the weirdest thing with the food. Hi won with his candyfloss eyebrows.

We dunked our hands in the hook-a-duck paddling pool then started scouting for rides. Ella wanted to do the carousel first, so we ended up saddling beautifully-carved rainbow and golden horses in between cheering five-year-olds. The boys didn't feel secure enough in their masculinity for it, so went to try their luck at whack-the-rat. Shelton, with his nervous reflexes, won a luminous blow-up kangaroo.

After that, we hit the dodgems. Everyone was keen to get stuck right in; we hit each other as much as possible. There were three consecutive games before Ella was pronounced winner and had to buy a round of 99s as reward.

Ferris wheel, coconut shy, cups-and-saucers, pirate ship, hit-the-bell, quoits… all provided ample opportunity for us to try, and mostly fail, to win the prizes promised. Flaring, we'd have had no problem. Or at least, no problem with the sideshows – there were plenty of issues presenting themselves with flares nowadays.

It was getting on for late dusk, the sky illuminated by the exuberant funfair lights, when Hi finally spotted what he'd been looking for. "Hey, hook-a-duck! Man, this game is the best."

"Even better than Skyrim?" Ella teased.

"Probably. Let me show you how totes amazepants hook-a-duck is." Hi lightly tugged at my friend's elbow, and she let herself be towed towards the brightly-flashing stall.

I fell in with Ben and Shelton. "Look at the lovebirds. Well, lovebird. Who knew hook-a-duck might actually work?"

Ben grinned at me. "Give it time, he's barely started. Ella may yet bring out a right hook. Hey, haunted house."

I followed his gaze to the shadowed stall beyond hook-a-duck, and grinned widely, bouncing up and down. "_House of Frightmares_ sounds hilariously un-scary. Let's go!"

"Really?" Shelton looked over doubtfully, shoving hands in his khaki board shorts. "Looks dark and creepy as hell."

"Creepy is awesome. We should definitely go in," I told him.

"Nah thanks, Tor. You've seen me in the dark before and I'd rather keep my creepy darkness encounters to a minimum. 'Sides, someone's gotta keep Hiram from accidentally drowning Ella."

We looked over to them. Right on cue, Hi tripped over a guy rope and almost fell into Ella. I winced, turning back to Shelton.

"Good plan. We'll see you back here in a few."

I shouldered into the throng, Ben not far behind.

The House of Frightmares was semi-busy, so on entering we were a metre away from other small groups. It was a good thing I hadn't had particularly high expectations; the first room was a dim red cave with bats and eels and stupid echoes. Ben snorted as we looked around. "Count me as super-frightened. Not."

"Terrified," I agreed. "What a scaredy-cat I am. Shall we move on?"

The next room was a little better, a sacrificial altar and sliced victims jumping out. While I did like the dark and unexpected nature of haunted houses, the altar did have me creeped out properly. I moved towards Ben a little by accident, causing our arms to brush gently. Which caused me to jump back again guiltily. _Damn it._

"You okay?" A concerned crease formed at Ben's forehead.

"Fine. Sorry."

"S'okay." The sacrificer leapt out, brandishing their long knives and almost stabbing Ben, as we walked through. He drew back hastily, having to grab my shoulder for balance. Sent an awkward grin my way, snatching his hand away, as he regained balance.

Damn, damn, damn. When did we get so awkward?

Even as I thought it, I accidentally brushed Ben's hand with my thumb. We were in the narrow entrance to the next room, but as we emerged into greenish laboratory light, we both tried to move apart a little. Wanting to be scared a little had turned into paranoid jumpiness.

"This is a little too close to home," I said out loud. All the test tubes of victims' blood and body parts were setting off scenarios in my own head I didn't want to think of. I moved sideways, away from the benches, but the exit meant you had to weave through them anyway. I paused at the side, crossing my arms.

"Tory?" Ben moved to stand beside me, but didn't face the benches. "I don't know if this is a great… oh, whatever." Then, stronger, "What are we doing?"

I turned to look at him quickly. "What are we doing? Like, in this haunted house?"

Ben gave me a look that read _you know what I mean, don't play idiot._

"Right. I, er, I don't know?"

"Well me neither, but I do know a few things." Ben took my hand, warm and surer than I felt. Slowly tugged me forwards while talking. "Like… well… I really like you. And I know you procrastinate decisions that aren't one hundred per cent rational. But maybe you could just think about whether you feel the same way, without trying to answer the universe's problems at the same time?"

I frowned, allowing myself to be led through the benches. I needed to relax and open up to Ben. We were a simmering pot that would boil over if I kept closing off, just like before, and we didn't want to go back there. Forwards was where it was at.

_So just tell him the truth. _The truth that had been eating away at the back of my brain for days, if not weeks or months.

"I like you too," I said, smiling accidentally when I caught sight of Ben's grin. "But also that _is_ difficult to separate from outside factors. Like… the pack."

"What about it?" We were only one hairpin bend away from the next room now.

"I don't want us to mess up whatever pack relationship already exists," I said haltingly, then sped up, stumbling over the words. "Like – am I suddenly going to be able to always mind-read you, or never Shelton and Hi? What would they think? What if we accidentally see inside each other's brains and – and _whatever _private scene comes out – or, or if we got together and broke up, then what? I mean, psychology says that relationships can't just go back to being friends or you were never really involved with actual _emotions _and God knows I'm past that point. I'm – I guess I'm worried about the changes for – whoa!"

After possibly the longest emotional speech of my life, I wasn't paying much attention to the haunted house and almost slipped off the metal mine-style railroad. It was only half a meter off the floor but I wasn't keen on falling between or over the ruts and smashing body parts. How did they even get permission to run these crazy events?

"Here." Ben took my hand and tucked it around his upper arm. "Better balance together."

"Thanks." I gave him a wry smile. "You smooth operator."

"I would be if I could get you to go out with me properly."

My breath caught. I couldn't keep my gaze on Ben's, and fixed on the track instead.

I wanted this, but I was also scared as hell. That seemed okay to admit now, in the dark, with strangers around us not paying attention. So I needed to tell him. Ben had been so patient, caring, protective – these and a hundred other sappy things. For me.

So I looked up again. Swallowed. "I want this. I'm also scared as – "

After that, everything happened too fast.

* * *

**A/N: Whoops, a massive cliffy. Sorry guys, but this scene is definitely too long to keep all in one chapter! Characterisation okay? Any ships feeling especially shippy after this? Let me know!**

**Also, I don't know how different travelling funfairs are in Murica so I've just stuck with what I know. That does not include corndogs (which I have never ever seen in Britain but seen on plenty of US shows so hopefully that counts).**

**Plus, largely thanks to the wonderful and encouraging reviews on the last chapter, I finally managed to break through the massive sceneblock I had! 8D So this chapter is posted super-quick as a thanks to all you lovely people out there who are sticking with me and the gang :)**

**Next time: mysterious jabs, head injury, swerving the monsters.**


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